Amazing, Yetta Thought. Back Home I Couldn't

Unlike My Mother, My Father Does Not Cry Quietly. His Wails Roll Out Like A Wave Of Pain, And I Scramble To Roll Up My Window. My Mother Cannot Hear That. I Cannot Bear To Hear It Myself. I Am Not Used To My Father's Crying. I've Had No Time To Harden My Heart Against Him.

That Porch Is A Happy-looking Place, And My Father - Burdened, Stoop-shouldered, Cadaverously Thin - Doesn't Seem To Belong On It.

Generally I Finish A First Draft In 2-6 Months, Then I Set It Aside For A While So That When I Come Back To It I Can Read It With Fresh Eyes And Figure Out How To Improve It.

And Nedley Started Saying,'shut Up!quit That! And I Knew It Really Meant Something To Him. So I Asked For His Help,"mark Said. "don't Tell The Story Like That," Nedley Laughed. "what He Said Was 'quit Pretendin You're A Bad Guy I Need Your Help, And I Need It Now!

When Writing Isn't Going Well-then The Bad Thing About Being A Writer Is That I Also Have The Freedom And Flexibility To Do Something Badly, And No One Else Can Fix It For Me.