You Can Run But You

I Try To Write About Real Women, Real People - In Other Words Flawed Characters. I Find Flawed Characters Much More Interesting Than Perfect Ones And Enjoy The Challenge Of Making Readers Root For Them In Spite Of Their Unsympathetic Path And Destructive Choices. Life Is About The Gray Areas. Things Are Seldom Black And White, Even When We Wish They Were And Think They Should Be, And I Like Exploring This Nuanced Terrain.

A Son Is A Son 'til He Gets A Wife, But A Daughter Is A Daughter All Her Life.

My Name Is Kirby Rose, And I'm Adopted. I Don't Mean To Make It Sound Like An Aa Confession, Although Sometimes That's How People Take It, Like It's Something They Should Be Supportive About. I Just Mean That They Are Two Basic Facts About Me.

Yet Here We Are, Two Children And A Broken Promise Later, Standing Before Each Other, Just The Way We Stood That Day At The Alter, With Equal Parts Love And Hope. And Once Again, I Close My Eyes, Ready To Take A Leap Of Faith, Ready For The Long, Hard Road Ahead. I Have No Idea How It's Going To Turn Out, But Then Again, I Never Really Did.

Then He Continues His Rant,saying, "and Even If I Didn't Know Them, I Know Their Type." "and What Type Is That?" She Asks,leaning Foward In Her Chair,yearning For Confirmation That He Gets It,that They Are Like-minded In Their Observations Of Others And The Circumspect Way They View The World. "oh,let's See," He Says,rubbing His Jaw. "superficial.artificial.sheep. They're More Worried About How They Come Across To Others Than Who They Really Are.they Exhaust Themselves In Their Pursuit Of Things That Don't Really Matter.