There's something really nice about writing something on Wednesday and watching it being performed live for a studio audience on Tuesday. You never really get that with novels.

Tell the story that's been growing in your heart, the characters you can't keep out of your head, the tale story that speaks to you, that pops into your head during your daily commute, that wakes you up in the morning.

I get really starstruck and tongue tied when I'm around other writers and the conversation tends not to go well.

I remember things like that...A lifetimes accredidation of unkindness, all of those little longering hurts that I carried around like stones sewn into my pockets.

Is it still there?" I asked, staring at his head, bent over, as he wedged the stethoscope beneath my left breast. And then, before I could stop myself, "Does it sound broken?

I think there are a lot of books about thin, attractive people having thin, attractive people's problems. I'm better set up to tell a different story.

I wrote my first books when I was single and then I got married and then had a kid and there were different things happening in my life.