I've Been Writing Full-time Since I Was

I Look Back One More Time. It's Like A Crater, A Hole Where Something Happened.

I Think It Would Be A Shame For Any Writer To Let Their Publishers In Any Way Corral Them Into A Single Genre.

There Are Some Tales Not For Telling, Whether Because They Are Too Long, Too Precious, Too Laughable, Too Painful, Too Easy To Need Telling Or Too Hard To Explain. After All, After Years And Travels My Secrets Are All I Have Left To Chew On In The Night.

Maybe I’m A Human, But I’m A Me-and-ma As Well.

Once I Spent A Whole Day There, A Blade Of Grass In Each Hand To Anchor Me To The Warm Earth. I Watched The Sun Rise, Pass Over My Head And Set. Ladybirds Mated On My Knuckle; A Shrew Nibbled A Hole In My Stocking While I Tried Not To Laugh. Such A Day Was Worth Any Punishment.