After Fifty Shades of Grey, I think my writing is pretty tame, isn't it?

I want, I want, I want! We never grow out of it somehow. Unless we become Buddhists, maybe.

I really felt neurotic - it was a neurotic reason - but I had to teach very, very well. That sucked up a lot of oxygen from my time and my creative thinking.

As a female in a home with a whole bunch of brothers and being very close to my father, without a mother and later having a hostile relationship with my stepmother, there were all kinds of Freudian issues rising from possessing a female body that I had to negotiate with no guidance, and I did this negotiation almost instinctually.

Crows appear in many of my new unpublished poems. In these walks, they take on a symbolic life apart from their irritating, undeniable, interruptive presence. I figure them differently.

I'm always resisting [my muse]. I'm resisting her power.

Philosophy is a bad master for poetry; religion worse; and politics self-serving will never serve the Muse.