The summer I turned fourteen, I got caught looking for love on Whore Hill. It had been four years since the start of Mr. Lotte’s investigation, three years since I made myself forget it ever happened, and over ten years since the steel industry fell and broke everyone’s hearts. In a town full of highways and unemployed mill workers, there was only one way to get out. The kids on the hill saw each other…

Previously in this series. What I've Learned: If the man you're on a date with indicates that you're welcome at a major jazz musician's Calabasas house for his birthday party but it turns out that said musician has no idea who the man you're on a date with is... BE. FINE. I can count the times I’ve been ASKED to go out on my hand, and still be able to pick my nose. Meh.

It was roughly ten years ago that the editor of a small literary journal called me with an invitation to contribute. He'd seen my letter to another publication and noticed that, at least by rural standards, we lived fairly close to one another. I liked his paper, especially the book reviews, but it didn't feel like a venue where my ideas would be welcome. A nice place to visit as a reader, sure, but without…

Wuthering Heights changed everything. Without it, my life would be very different. I first read Wuthering Heights when I was fifteen. The book was assigned in English Literature and I had a deep curiosity to read it. There was something about the word ‘Wuthering’ that intrigued me. I loved how it made storm and tumult incarnate; a so much more evocative word than merely ‘stormy’ or ‘wild’. I also knew that Emily Brontë was…