A few days ago, I walked through the woods on one of those rare winter afternoons where the sun is actually out and your soul starts to peek out from behind its woolen blanket. I found myself thinking about my writing, as I often do: about how stories need both light and dark--points of contrast and contradiction, of both soft lines and sharp edges--in order to capture my full attention. I don't know that I came to any conclusions about how to make that happen in my own story, but I did end up with some pretty pictures.
