Whole Interaction Between The Storyteller And The

Once You're Involved In The Work, It's Really Just You And The Characters And The Words.

When You Write, It’s Like Braiding Your Hair. Taking A Handful Of Coarse Unruly Strands And Attempting To Bring Them Unity. Your Fingers Have Still Not Perfected The Task. Some Of The Braids Are Long, Others Are Short. Some Are Thick, Others Are Thin. Some Are Heavy. Others Are Light. Like The Diverse Women Of Your Family. Those Whose Fables And Metaphors, Whose Similes And Soliloquies, Whose Diction And Je Ne Sais Quoi Daily Slip Into Your Survival Soup, By Way Of Their Fingers.

They Say Behind Mountains Are More Mountains.

Someone Has Said That Nations Have Interests, They Don't Have Friends, And You See That Over And Over In U.s. Policy.

Love Is Like The Rain. It Comes In A Drizzle Sometimes. Then It Starts Pouring And If You're Not Careful It Will Drown You.