You Become A Writer Because

I Should Have Written More. I Should Have Written More During The Period When I Just Liked So Much Doing The Political Work In The Streets.

…i Go Through A Story For Lies. I Might Discover The Lie Of Trying To Show Off. Sometimes They’re Lies Of Character. Sometimes They Are Lies Of Writing The Most Beautiful Sentence In The World That Has Nothing To Do With The Story.

I Saw My Ex-husband In The Street. I Was Sitting On The Steps Of The New Library. Hello, My Life, I Said. We Had Once Been Married For Twenty-seven Years, So I Felt Justified. He Said, What? What Life? No Life Of Mine.

Just When I Most Needed Important Conversation, A Sniff Of The Man-wide World, That Is, At Least One Brainy Companion Who Could Translate My Friendly Language Into His Tongue Of Undying Carnal Love, I Was Forced To Lounge In Our Neighborhood Park, Surrounded By Children.

Most Of The Womens Libbers I Knew Really Didnt Want To Have A Piece Of The Mens Pie. They Thought That Pie Was Kind Of Poisonous, Toxic, Really Full Of Weapons, Poison Gases, All Kinds Of Mean Junk We Didnt Even Want A Slice Of.