Growing up, I was taught that love is one big complicated, complex, elusive, exclusive, impossible, painful mess.

Even though I’ve practiced the art of storytelling for decades, and at times made a decent living at it, I was much older than you’d think when I began to contemplate and understand the process of creativity, of the relationship between story and audience, of dramatic and emotional journeys, of character and catharsis and destiny. And of telling the truth.

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