Doorways Are Sacred To Women

In Fiction, I Exercise My Nosiness. I Am As Curious As My Cats, And Indeed That Has Led To Trouble Often Enough And Used Up Several Of My Nine Lives. I Am An Avid Listener. I Am Fascinated By Other People's Lives, The Choices They Make And How That Works Out Through Time, What They Have Done And Left Undone, What They Tell Me And What They Keep Secret And Silent, What They Lie About And What They Confess, What They Are Proud Of And What Shames Them, What They Hope For And What They Fear. The Source Of My Fiction Is The Desire To Understand People And Their Choices Through Time.

In Her Bottled Up Is A Woman Peppery As Curry, A Yam Of A Woman Of Butter And Brass.

I Wasn't Afraid Of Being Poor; I Rather Took It For Granted. I Was Good At Getting By With Very Little. I Couldn't Imagine Sacrificing My Writing To Anything Else.

On This Twelfth Day Of My Diet I Would Rather Die Satiated Than Slim.

Long Hair Is Considered Bohemian, Which May Be Why I Grew It, But I Keep It Long Because I Love The Way It Feels, Part Cloak, Part Fan, Part Mane, Part Security Blanket.