I Certainly Understand Very Much What It's

It's Funny How, Even Long After You've Accepted The Grief Of Losing Someone You Love And Truly Have Gotten On With Your Life, Every Once In A While Something Comes Up That Plays "gotcha," And For A Moment Or Two The Scar Tissue Separates And The Wound Is Raw Again.

A Common Question Asked Of Writers Is "when Did You Decide To Become A Writer?" The Answer, Of Course, Is That We Didn't Decide Anything. It Was Decided For Us. I Firmly Believe That Mythical Godmothers Make Appearances At Our Cradles, And Bestow Their Gifts. The Godmother Who Might Have Blessed Me With A Singing Voice Did Not Show Up; The Goddess Of Dance Was Nowhere In Sight; The Chef-to-the-angels Was Otherwise Engaged. Only One Made The Journey To My Cradle, And She Whispered, "you Will Be A Storyteller."

I Am A Natural Optimist But There Were Times When (it Seemed Like) I Was Doing Nothing But Adding Up On The Back Of Envelope What I Had To Pay This Month.

When A Scientist's Son Or Daughter Becomes A Scientist They'll Say "wonderful! Wonderful!" So, Why, In The Name Of God, Would A Mother Be Jealous To See Her Daughter Become A Successful Writer?

As A Writer, You Paint Strokes And Leave Suggestions So Readers Can Create Their Own Pictures. That Allows You To Know Someone By A Small Action And It Saves Countless Pages Of Explanation.