The question I hate the most is "How did you DO it - write novels and raise your children simultaneously!" I mean, do MALE authors get asked that??

parenting isn't a noun but a verb--an ongoing process instead of an accomplishment. And that no matter how many years you put into the job, the learning curve is, well, fairly flat.

But will you miss me? More importantly - will I miss you? Does either one of us really want to hear the answer to that question?

I tell you this as a cautionary tale: beware of getting what you want. It's bound to disappoint you.

Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?

Words are like eggs dropped from great heights; you can no more call them back than ignore the mess they leave when they fall.

From that point of view, I realized that my hole was not miles deep after all. My father, in fact, could stand on the bottom and it only reached up to his chest. Darkness, you know, is relative.