I wanted to connect a modern story with a myth that I had read.

I don't know. Maybe we're all chaos theorists. Lovers of pattern and predictability, we're scared shitless of explosive change. But we're fascinated by it, too. Drawn to it. Travelers tap their brakes to ogle the mutilation and mangled metal on the side of the interstate, and the traffic backs up for miles. Hijacked planes crash into skyscrapers, breached levees drown a city, and CNN and the networks rush to the scene so that we can all sit in front of our TVs and feast on the footage. Stare, stunned, at the pandemonium--the devils let loose from their cages.

Love comes in far more shapes and sizes than what the family-values crowd condones, of course.

The roundness of life's design may be a sign that there is a presence beyond ourselves.

When I was a kid... I needed to belong.

Power, wrongly used, defeats the oppressor as well as the oppressed.

Human behavior in the midst of hardship caught my attention very early on, and my first stories were all pictures, no words.