Before I Had Children I Always Wondered

For 25 Years, I Did Take My Responsibilities As A Pleaser Of Others Sufficiently Seriously.

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.

The Vehemence With Which Certain Critics Have Chosen Not Simply To Criticize What I've Written, But To Challenge My Writing This Story At All, Speaks Of What The Book Is About: Fear Of Disapproval.

Wherever It Is You Make Your Home, There Is Always This Other Place, This Other Person, Calling To You. Come To Me. Come Back.

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.