San Francisco is poetry. Even the hills rhyme.

Nature has a way of deadening us to traumatic events, until we're ready to deal with it. And once you do, it's a volcanic reaction.

My mother was the tough-as-nails disciplinarian who showed very little to no emotion. My father, on the other hand, was a study in contradiction. He was the fire, hell, and brimstone preacher, while also being incredibly gentle and forward thinking. I identify with him a lot.

I've been poor and neglected, in the middle and cherished, then rich and miserable and back to the middle and now happy. I've lived it all.

Thanks to my son, I've learned to laugh at myself. Laughter has been my saving grace.

Everyone brings their own perceptions when reading a book about a real person. At the end they will take away whatever they wish.

I've always been very outspoken and a supporter of the underdog, because I'm one as well. I