He never said "Don't tell your mama." He never had to say it. I did not know how to tell anyone what I felt, what scared me and shamed me... (109)

I was born trash in a land where the people all believe themselves natural aristocrats.

Twenty years after we had left so fierce and proud, we were all right back where we had started, yoked to each other and the same old drama.

Teenagers are free verse walking around on two legs.

Mama learned to laugh with them, before they could laugh at her, and to do it so well no one could be sure what she really thought or felt.

... survival is the least of my desires.

Why write stories? To join the conversation.