I’m just the writer. I’m like a mirror. I show the reflections of what’s real. I can’t decide the ending any more than I can stop the sun. I only wait and see what the characters will do. Right or wrong, my job is simply to tell the truth, even when I have to lie to tell it.
Well, think about it. I’m sending the manuscript in in the morning.
Sunrise really is a lovely thing; a sight well worth leaving one’s comfortable bed, or grave, for, and in the end, the dawn comes whether we meet it or not.
Tale Told 