In my adult life, I had spent a lot of time angry at God, mostly over the sudden deaths in my family… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“She took the first tentative, terrifying, exhilarating steps into her future.” — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I often feel that I have a split personality. I love more than anything to be in my study writing, but when… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Time passes and I am still not through it. Grief isn't something you get over. You live with it. You go on… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Through the eight books in 'The Treasure Chest' series, readers will meet twins Maisie and Felix and learn the secrets and rules… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I have a fondness for writing about precocious, troubled teenagers, who are alienating, but kind of endearing. It's from remembering so clearly… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
In Orphan Train, Christina Baker Kline seamlessly knits together the past and present of two women, one young and one old. Kline… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Everyone has read about or knows someone who has gone through fertility treatments. It is an emotional nightmare, fueled by false hope and the… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Still, he loved her. She knew that. He loved her the best way he could. But she wasn't sure that was enough anymore.” — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“On April 18, 1906, when that earthquake hit San Francisco and took David from her, Vivien began to speak the language of grief. She… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words. — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Babies make you do things for them. They get you up and they get you moving. — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I was a daughterless mother. I had nowhere to put the things a mother places on her daughter. The nail polish I used to… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
For reasons I can't remember, my family eventually stopped attending church, and I started questioning the Catholic Church's beliefs. I dabbled a little, but… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
Since my brother died in 1982, my parents and I had formed a shaky tripod of a family; now that I'd lost my father… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
“Nothing can stop the words so well as the mute alphabet of knit and purl. The curl of your cupped hand scoops up long… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
I learned to knit in 2002, six months after my 5-year-old daughter, Grace, died suddenly from a virulent form of strep. I was unable… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
If watching your child die is a parent's worst nightmare, imagine having to tell your other child that his sister is dead... Although I… — Ann Hood Copy Share Image
