Q: If your writing style were a bird, what type of bird would it be and why?
A: A bird uncaged, flying about a wonderfully strange garden. A bird who collects the beautiful shiny things that catch its eye, then weaves them into a story-nest, built of twigs and branches and Spanish moss. The garden is the framework, the rules of writing, but they’re there to support the story, not to constrain it. Within the rules is an abundance of space to play and to map one’s own path. The story-nest is pruned and plucked and woven over and over, with the bird discarding some of the bright, shiny objects so that the nest becomes something lovely in its own right, more than the sum of its parts. And sometimes, a bird that flies clear of the garden’s boundaries to test what lies beyond, for that is where the best monsters live.