Being an adult child was an awkward, inevitable position. You went about your business in the world: tooling around, giving orders, being taken seriously, but there were still these two people lurking somewhere who in a split second could reduce you to nothing. In their presence, you were a big-headed baby again, crawling instead of walking.
Meg WolitzerBoth my mother and I have close groups of friends that include other writers, and these friendships are very important to us.
Meg WolitzerBut it had no doubt sprung from true emotion, for all that parents ever wanted, really, was for you to love their child the way they did.
Meg WolitzerPart of the beauty of love was that you didn’t need to explain it to anyone else. You could refuse to explain. With love, apparently you didn’t necessarily feel the need to explain anything at all.
Meg Wolitzer