But now the joy is gone and the sadness is back, the sadness feels like something deserved, the price of some not-quite-forgotten betrayal.

Say what you mean. Say what you see. Make a photograph, if you can, for the reader.

Reading in bed can be heaven, assuming you can get just the right amount of light on the page and aren't prone to spilling your coffee or cognac on the sheets.

When the reader hears strong echoes of his or her own life and beliefs, he or she is apt to become more invested in the story.

I worry about you Bev. I worry a lot.

When you write you tell yourself a story. When you rewrite you take out everything that is NOT the story.

Semi-facetiously, when people ask me why I write these kinds of stories, I simply say that I was warped as a child. And, there is some truth to that.