We Can Only Know What We Can

When Midlist Writers Are Treated Like Dirt, I Would Desist Were I Less Stubborn And Less Committed.

Memory In Greek Mythology Is The Mother Of The Muses, And It Is So For Me. Both Personal And Societal Memory Move Me Strongly, And That Is One Of The Sources Of My Writing.

Purple As Tulips In May, Mauve Into Lush Velvet, Purple As The Stain Blackberries Leave On The Lips, On The Hands, The Purple Of Ripe Grapes Sunlit And Warm As Flesh.

I Don't Think Writers Change The Past Any More Than Other People Do, Except In So Far As We May Mine Our Lives And Change Things For Fictional Use.

I Don't Even Remember What Mother And I Quarreled About: It Is A Continual Quarrel That Began When I Reached Puberty.