Christy Hall Quotes

I am swimming in a sea of words, attempting to keep my head above water.

When I am alone, I drink my tea with pinkie raised, like a kid playing "tea party." At times, a fancy British accent is involved. Dahling!

Growing up, I used to climb out my window onto the roof and look up at the stars. There, in the quiet, I would write stories inside my head.

As you near a finish line, do not slow down. Instead, run faster. Give all you have left until it is done. It is then that you may collapse.

I look out over my life and see a million question marks with only a few definitive exclamation points. I'm living for the next exclamation.

Each night, I close my eyes and dream. In the morning, I open my eyes again, but the dreaming doesn't stop.

Don't fool yourself. Talking about writing is not the same as actually doing it.

I've never been high. Writing is my drug of choice. You don't ever have to come down from that kind of high, I tell ya. And, best part is, it's free.

A writing day is like any other day. Except I live in my pajamas, I forget to eat, and I suddenly look up, wondering when day turned into night.

If I had a nickel for all the times I've been shushed in my life? Bam! Instant millionaire!

The night before a deadline, I usually am in desperate need of a back rub. And new wrists. And candy. And little mice to secretly finish the job while I am sleeping.

You know you're officially an adult when you finally understand WHY Miss Hannigan was drinking bath water.

Because.
Everything
worth anything
takes time.

When a solid first draft of an original tale is complete ... you feel as if you could do anything.

Most days, writing simply requires work-ethic, discipline, clarity, focus, time. Other days ... it will demand absolutely everything of you.

What you really want is all too often hidden just behind what you think you want.

You are more ready and able to grasp at opportunity when your hands are empty.

The defining lines of reality have always been a bit blurred for me.

Those corrupted by the pursuit of power, despite another's attempt at unspoiled love, cannot be rescued from the darkness that devours the soul

That moment when a knot forms in your throat, but you choose to throw your head back and laugh instead.

New York is perfect. Just the way it is. In all its imperfection.

You know you are a writer when characters inside your brain keep demanding, 'This is my story! Now tell it or I will never leave you alone!

A watched pot never boils.
It's the same with success. So? Throw that burner on HIGH and just keep on cooking. Dinner will be ready soon.

Your writing should be filled with simple complexities and complex simplicities. Because that is life.

No.'
It's not a bad word.
And it is very important to use at times.
Practice saying it in the mirror.
It's empowering.

Nothing makes you feel smaller than New York City ...

I have written until I fell asleep with my computer on my lap. That can't be normal.

She meant to write: "Is Christy here yet?"
Auto Correct turned it into: "Is crazy here yet?"
For once Auto Correct got it right.

Occupation: Writer
Occupational Hazard: Carpel tunnel
Solution: Wrist guards to bed or my hands do all the sleeping
Perspective: I've decided my wrist guards have turned me into a Ninja Superhero that hides in the shadows

Souls are more important than stories, yes. But stories are a window to the soul. Without stories, the soul suffocates.

Give all that you can.
No more. No less.
Every. Single. Day.

I close my eyes and think of what might be possible. And, in my mind, I see fireworks over the Hudson.

Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Month become years. And years become silence.

My stories are my children. Some are sweet infants that I coddle and care for. Others are old enough now, they need to damn well get a job!

Walking the Camino de Santiago taught me the wonders of physical challenge, the wonders of spiritual freedom, and the wonders of baby powder.

Airport bars are more like film sets, the bathrooms reminiscent of dormitories. Everyone is waiting to go somewhere, suspended in nowhere ...

A writer writes. There are no exceptions to this reality. No excuses. Stop wasting time talking about your stories and get them on paper.

If I were to be honest, I'm probably fifty percent bagel. Okay, fine, sixty percent.

I want everyday magic.

Don't be afraid of what you're creating.

Life baffles me most days. Maybe that's why I write. To try and make sense of it all.

It's hard to be a dreamer sometimes. I'm tired.

If you think someone is humble, never tell them so. You will unknowingly rob them of the very thing you admire.

I wish my brain had an off switch. Maybe that way I could get some sleep.

Sometimes I dream so vividly, so expectantly, I wonder if I'm crazy ...

Live inside your stories, yes, but do not hide behind them.