He [ma's Tooth] Was Part Of Her

I Remember Manners, That's When People Are Scared To Make Other Persons Mad.

Writing Stories Is My Way Of Scratching That Itch: My Escape From The Claustrophobia Of Individuality. It Lets Me, At Least For A While, Live More Than One Life, Walk More Than One Path. Reading, Of Course, Can Do The Same.

I Was Not Exploiting Any Real Individual's Story In Writing Room, Of Course I Was Aware That My Novel, By Commenting On Such Situations, Would Run The Risk Of Falling Into Those Traps Of Voyeurism, Sensationalism And Sentimentality.

I Got In The Habit Of Giving Away A Book As Soon As I've Finished It Because I Lived In A Housing Co-op At Cambridge And Had No Space To Keep Books.

And As The Years Flowed By, Some Villagers Told Travelers Of A Beast And A Beauty Who Lived In The Castle And Could Be Seen Walking On The Battlements, And Others Told Of Two Beauties, And Others, Of Two Beasts.