In the end, fiction is the craft of telling truth through lies.
Amor animi arbitrio sumitu, non ponitur; we choose to love; we do not choose to cease loving.
As a person, I do ascribe to a lot of magical thinking myself.
Sex is a good starting point for everything.
Even the presence of my kids cannot, during those writing hours, disturb me. Unless there's a bone sticking out of their arm, I'm not interested.
In my totally unscientific yet enthusiastic survey of Communal Experiments Throughout American History, I've discovered that the thing most likely to break up said experiments is: Sex, all that murky, dark, dirty gunk simmering beneath human relations.