But my problem with fantasy, and horror, and related genres, is that sometimes the problems are illogical.

Well, writing was what I wanted to do, it was always what I wanted to do. I had novels to write so I wrote them.

And by the way, I wanted to point out that Kindred is not science fiction. You'll note there's no science in it. It's a kind of grim fantasy.

I have this theory that anything that happens to you that leaves you alive and intact can be used somewhere in your writing.

Once you grow past Mommy and Daddy coming running when you're hurt, you're really on your own. You're alone, and there's no one to help you.

Better to stay alive," I said. "At least while there's a chance to get free." I thought of the sleeping pills in my bag and wondered just how great a hypocrite I was. It was so easy to advise other people to live with their pain.

Religion kept some of my relatives alive, because it was all they had. If they hadn't had some hope of heaven, some companionship in Jesus, they probably would have committed suicide, their lives were so hellish.