I Look Back One More Time. It's

There Are Some Tales Not For Telling, Whether Because They Are Too Long, Too Precious, Too Laughable, Too Painful, Too Easy To Need Telling Or Too Hard To Explain. After All, After Years And Travels My Secrets Are All I Have Left To Chew On In The Night.

Writing Stories Is My Way Of Scratching That Itch: My Escape From The Claustrophobia Of Individuality. It Lets Me, At Least For A While, Live More Than One Life, Walk More Than One Path. Reading, Of Course, Can Do The Same.

My Mother Was Wonderfully Out About Her Dementia. She Would Sort Of - She Would Say To Me, I Came Out To The Window Cleaner About Having Dementia. You Know, I Love The Way That Verb For Coming Out Of The Closet Has Now Become So Socially Useful For All Sorts Of Situations, Like When You Need To Explain To The Window Cleaner That You Don't Know If You Paid Him Or Not.

I've Certainly Seen Stats That If You Have A Woman Director Or A Woman Screenwriter, The Number Of Female Characters Goes Way Up.

Scared Is What You're Feeling. Brave Is What You're Doing.