Grief is a curious thing, when it happens unexpectedly. It is a Band-Aid being ripped away, taking the top layer off a family. And the underbelly of a household is never pretty, ours no exception. There were times I stayed in my room for days on end with headphones on, if only so that I would not have to listen to my mother cry. There were the weeks that my father worked round-the-clock shifts, so that he wouldn't have to come home to a house that felt too big for us.

You can’t undo something that’s happened; you can’t take back a word that’s already been said out loud.

Any highway . . . they all take you to the same place, don't they?

For me it's more important that I outline all the facets of a controversial issue and let the reader make up his or her mind. I don't care if readers change their minds, but I would like readers to ask themselves why their opinion is what it is.

Just when you think you've got your life by the reins, that's when it's most likely to run away with you.

It is a remarkable question- Do all the wonderful things happen when we are not aware of them?

I would figure out, later, how to explain to my boss that, for me, Delia will never be a story, but a happy ending.