I Think Our Material Is

Grief Is In Two Parts. The First Is Loss. The Second Is The Remaking Of Life.

I Feel That The World Needs Writers. We Need To Know What's Really Going On.

I Think Our Material Is Our Lives. That's Part Of Being A Modern Writer, And We Have To Use It.

Our Mythology Tells Us So Much About Fathers And Sons. ... What Do We Know About Mothers And Daughters? ... Our Power Is So Oblique, So Hidden, So Ethereal A Matter, That We Rarely Struggle With Our Daughters Over Actual Kingdoms Or Corporate Shares. On The Other Hand, Our Attractiveness Dries As Theirs Blooms, Our Journey Shortens Just As Theirs Begins. We Too Must Be Afraid And Awed And Amazed That We Cannot Live Forever And That Our Replacements Are Eager For Their Turn, Indifferent To Our Wishes, Ready To Leave Us Behind.

Sometimes What We Call Love Is Just A Settling Of Old Scores, Or A Seeking Of Forbidden Pain, Or A Circuitous Path To The Kingdom Of Cruelty, Or She May Simply Have Confused Lack Of Capital With Heroism While Searching For Rescue Without Knowing From What.