My world was changing, and I was not ready for it.

Eat of my deep earth, drink of my living streams, for I am your Mother. Your heart is my wild drum, your breath my eternal song. If you would live, dance with me!

You are... you're like a beating heart. A glowing lamp. I've never met anyone like you before.

Water and stone Flesh and bone Night and morn Rose and thorn Tree and wind Heart and mind

What I do . . . the path I tread . . . it brings some choices that test me hard.

I had grown up. I had learned that being a woman was knowing when to stand firm and when to compromise. I had learned to laugh and weep; I had learned that I was weak as well as strong. I had learned to love. I was no longer a rigid, upright tree that would not flex and bow, even though the gale threatened to snap it in two; I was the willow that bends and shivers and sways, and yet remains strong.

I've loved fairytales, folklore and mythology since I was a small child, and I think it was inevitable that they would influence my style and my development of stories.