What have you been reading lately?
I’ve been reading a lot of horror. Well, I’ve always read a lot of horror, including when I was a child. I like my storytelling dark, which you would not guess from reading my children’s books. But read my love story, Until September. That’ll give you a taste of my love of the dark! Unless I’m writing comedies, my screenplays also skew quite dark. I think comedies—especially rom-coms—should have happy endings, or at least not be tragic. Horror, on the other hand…
What first sparked the idea for the book, and how did it evolve from that initial moment of inspiration?
I was in Siena, Italy, for a few weeks and the town’s central square, the Piazza del Campo, really struck my imagination. I have a crippling fear of heights, so I never went up in the Torre del Mangia, the tower that stands guard over the plaza and the city. But it got me thinking about a bird at the top of the tower—one who hatched there—and what would happen if it had the same fear I do. I sat with it, mulling it over, letting it steep, until I got back home to L.A., and then one night, I went up to the loft and I got started.
Can you describe your writing routine—where, when, and how you tend to write best?
I write in our loft, mostly in the evening and going into the night. I do my best work once the sun is down and others are asleep. Our cat, Holly, is either on my lap or sleeping nearby. She and I are deeply connected and she follows me pretty much everywhere. She’s watching over my shoulder this very moment! I’ve got a lot of frenetic energy, so while I write I’m checking email and texting and researching for another project and submitting a script to a producer and scrolling social media. I can’t sit and do just one thing—but it works for me. I get a lot done!
Are you a pantser or a plotter? In other words, do you plan your stories before writing them?
I’m totally a pantser. I get an idea and as it starts fleshing itself out in my head, I start writing. I like letting the characters tell me who they are as we go—their histories, personalities, and idiosyncrasies—and that takes me into really surprising territory, sometimes changing the destination. My young-adult thriller, Never Have I Ever, was written when I was 17. When I adapted it into a screenplay, the story remained the same, but the characters revealed things to me they hadn’t before. It was shocking and so much fun. Then when I readapted it from the screenplay back into a book (the one published now), the characters revealed even more. The psychology became far more complex. I didn’t know where I was headed with Sam in The Bird Who Was Afraid to Fly, and once I finished the first few drafts, it changed dramatically anyway. The surprise is such a huge part of the fun. I feel like a conduit—a medium channeling stories from the energy of the universe.
Was there a particular part that proved especially challenging to write?
I did a lot of research on birds—not just sparrows, which Sam is, but birds of all types. I find research is always fun. I mean, you’re working on your story—what’s not fun about that? I think that was the most challenging aspect of The Bird Who Was Afraid to Fly, and even that wasn’t too difficult. Since I generally write novels and screenplays, there was real freedom in writing something much smaller yet still expansive. Building a world for children is vastly different from building one for adults. You get to go to that place in you that is still a child and play again.
Which authors, books, or artistic influences (literary or otherwise) have shaped your voice the most?
It may seem odd given this is a children’s book, but I find the most inspiration from F. Scott Fitzgerald and Bret Easton Ellis. I don’t write anything like Ellis, but I find his style inspiring. My first book, Until September, has been compared to Fitzgerald so often by reviewers that it still blows me away. I wasn’t intentionally emulating him, but the story is adjacent to the worlds he wrote about, so readers make that connection. With The Bird Who Was Afraid to Fly, a rhythm emerged that felt closer to poetry. That lyrical quality exists in most of my writing, but it’s more distilled in a children’s book—tighter, more musical, and more precise than a 400-page novel.
What do you most hope readers feel or think about after finishing the book?
I hope there’s a sense of relief in knowing that it’s okay to be afraid—and okay to ask for help. We all remember feeling helpless or teased for our perceived inadequacies, and there is a way out. Being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid; it means seeing something through despite the fear. I hope Sam and his story help readers move forward, even just a little.
What advice would you give to other aspiring indie writers?
It’s not just about writing the book—you also have to oversee the cover design, marketing, and self-promotion. You have to be in it for the long haul. A strong title and a well-designed cover matter. There are so many generic titles and amateurish covers out there—try to be better than that. And, of course, it all starts with a good story well told. If you are not an editor (and most writers are not), hire one. Nothing screams amateur like a poorly edited book. Typos happen, even with major publishers, but only a couple—otherwise it looks sloppy.
Anything else you want to add?
While writing should be fun, it is also serious work and takes dedication. Whether you’re writing for yourself, your family, or with hopes of becoming a world-renowned author, take your time to get it right. Enjoy the process. The process is the journey, the journey is the experience, and the success is the reward.
You can check out The Bird Who Was Afraid to Fly here!
