So This Had Been All I Wanted,

Morris Was Not The Type To Offer A Hug Or Even Hold Your Hand. But There Was Something In His Quiet Indignation At The Universe Then--and Luke, Now--that Was Just The Kind Of Comfort I Needed. "i'm Such A Mess," I Said. "we're Almost Off The Island And I Didn't Even Ask You Where You Were Going." He Shrugged. "no Place. Wherever You Are.

I Think I'm Way Too Much Of A Control Freak To Co-author Anything With Anyone. I Have A Hard Enough Time Writing With Myself! I Admire People That Can Do It, But It's Not For Me.

I Wondered Which Was Harder, In The End. The Act Of Telling, Or Who You Told It To. Or Maybe If, When You Finally Got It Out, The Story Was Really All That Mattered.

I Really Just Love To Read, Period, Whether It Be Books Or Magazines Or The Back Of The Cereal Box. It's The One Thing I Can Always Count On To Calm Me Down, Take Me Away And Inspire Me, All At Once.

So It Just Wasn't In My House. Anywhere, I Looked Like I Knew About The Toilet.