Certain peer pressures encourage little fingers to learn how to hold a football instead of a crayon. I confess to having yielded to these pressures.

I'm not a perfectionist. I'm just very observant.

I pore over every word on the cereal box at breakfast, often more than once. You can ask me anything about shredded wheat.

The opportunity to create a small world between two pieces of cardboard, where time exists yet stands still, where people talk and I tell them what to say, is exciting and rewarding.

Some artists claim praise is irrelevant in measuring the success of art, but I think it's quite relevant. Besides, it makes me feel great.

I have lots of ideas. The problem for me has always been which one to do.

I write for what's left of the eight-year-old still rattling around inside my head