“Of all the preposterous assumptions of humanity over humanity, nothing exceeds most of the criticisms made on the habits of the poor by the well-housed, well- warmed, and well-fed.” -Herman Melville

I've been thinking a lot about why I write. For different books it's been different reasons:

My first book, which I will not tell you the title of, came out in 2003, which was a very long time ago. And when I wrote that one it was kind of just exploring the idea--I didn't have a belief that writing full-time would ever be a real thing that I did.

Several years later, I broke into the national market…

I'm sad. Like, heartbreakingly sad. Because, well, I’m a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and you've seen the news.

And I just wrote a big thing about dealing with and processing sadness, but it wasn't very good. And I think the reason it wasn't very good is because I don't have good answers. So, I won't be trying to solve anyone's problems today, with the exception of fulfilling this:

I have a close friend from back in the high school days, and he and I go to lunch once a month. We have a great time talking about this and that, and then, inevitably, we talk politics. He is on the opposite end of the political spectrum, and I am always perplexed: we seem to be talking in a different language, operating from a completely different set of "facts". We have a hard time finding common ground because stuff that he thinks is a given, I think is untested anecdote--and vice versa.

I've been looking into this this week, as the world seems so polarized. It has been a hell of a week…