I Rang My Mother To

I Knew It, I Just Knew It! The Person Who Had The Job Of Writing My Life's Dialogue Used To Work On A Very Low Budget Soap Opera.

Do I Mind Being Called A Chick-lit Writer? Well, It's Not The Worst Thing That Could Happen.

Besides, I'd Seen A Really Nice Pair Of Shoes Yesterday In The Mall And I Wanted Them For My Own. I Can't Describe The Feeling Of Immediate Familiarity That Rushed Between Us. The Moment I Clapped Eyes On Them I Felt Like I Already Owned Them. I Could Only Suppose That We Were Together In A Former Life. That They Were My Shoes When I Was A Serving Maid In Medieval Britain Or When I Was A Princess In Ancient Egypt. Or Perhaps They Were The Princess And I Was The Shoes. Who's To Know? Either Way I Knew That We Were Meant To Be Together.

I've Never Made A Secret Of The Fact That I'd Have Loved To Have Children.

Why Do We Have Such A Finite Capacity For Pleasure But An Infinite One For Pain?