I think that now most people know someone in their family that is coping with something, but there is still a tremendous amount of shame - that one is still regarded as a defective unit ... if only they would pull up their bootstraps - they are only indulging their emotions, everybody's moody, blah, blah, blah.

The older you get, the easier it is to spot the phonies. And I just think, how unpleasant for them.

Now it's dedicated to my grandparents and to both of my parents. The first book was dedicated to my mother so I thought maybe it was my father's turn, but then I realized that everyone would jump on that and assume I'd had some falling out with my mother, which is absolutely not the case.

You know how most illnesses have symptoms you can recognize? Like fever, upset stomach, chills, whatever. Well, with manic depression, it's sexual promiscuity, excessive spending, and substance abuse - and that just sounds like a fantastic weekend in Vegas to me!

Leia follows me like a vague smell.

Sometimes I feel like I've got my nose pressed up against the window of a bakery, only I'm the bread.

I was born imagining myself with an apron on, with pies cooling on the window sill and babies crying upstairs. I thought that all that stuff would somehow anchor me to the planet, that it was the weight I needed to keep from just flying off into space.