As An American I Wanted To Explore...

Just So You Know, When They Say "once Upon A Time"....they're Lying. It's Not Once Upon A Time. Its Not Even Twice Upon A Time. It's Hundreds Of Times, Over And Over, Every Time Someone Opens Up The Pages Of This Dusty Old Book.

Where Did You Go?" "to The End Of The Driveway," My Mother Says. "i Was Nine Months Pregnant; That Was The Maximum Distance I Could Waddle Without Feeling As If My Uterus Was Falling Out." I Wince. "do You Have To Be Quite So Graphic?" "what Would You Like Me To Call It, Zoe? A Fetal Living Room?

When You Don't Know Where You're Headed, You Find Places No One Else Would Ever Explore.

Rest Easy, Real Mothers. The Very Fact That You Worry About Being A Good Mom Means That You Already Are One.

I Don't Base My Books On My Life (thank Goodness) And I Don't Pick The Topic First. In Fact, The Topic Picks Me - Via A Question I Can't Answer As A Mom, A Wife, A Woman, An American. I Find Myself Wondering "what If..." And It Blossoms Into A Whole Novel.