The Big Dramas That Fascinate Me Are

Growing Up In The Fifties And Sixties, I Can Only Remember Knowing One Child, Ever, Whose Parents Got A Divorce, And Hardly Any Whose Mother "worked" At Anything Besides Raising Her Children.

I Do Not Outline. There Are Writers I Know And Count As My Friends Who Certainly Do It The Other Way But For Me Part Of The Adventure Is Not Knowing How It's Going To Turn Out.

I'd Known Enough Flush Times And Lean Ones To Understand That Money Came And Went. And That One Day I'd Also Lose My Looks, My Seemingly Boundless Energy And Maybe The Ability To Catch The Eye Of An Attractive Man And The Audacity To Rollerblade. My Name Would Be Forgotten. So Would Bad Reviews, And Good Ones. But Loving A Child Is Something That Lasts. Long After All The Rest Is Gone, That's What Endures.

She Felt Everything Too Deeply, It Was Like The World Was Too Much For Her.

A Person Who Deserves My Loyalty Receives It.