So Much Depends Upon A Blue Car

Being A Mother Is Like Trying To Hold A Wolf By The Ears,” Gram Said. “if You Have Three Or Four –or More – Chickabiddies, You’re Dancing On A Hot Griddle All The Time. You Don’t Have Time To Think About Anything Else. And If You’ve Only Got One Or Two, It’s Almost Harder. You Have Room Left Over – Empty Spaces That You Think You’ve Got To Fill Up.

Each Child Brings So Much Joy And Hope Into The World, And That Is Reason Enough For Being Here. As You Grow Older, You Will Contribute Something Else To This World, And Only You Can Discover What That Is.

I Cannot Just Write A Frivolous Book, A La-di-da Book. Everything Isn't La-di-da. There Is Something That's Going To Pull You Up Short. I Want To Reassure Young Readers. I Want To Comfort Them, To Not Fear The Unexpected.

It Seems To Me That We Can’t Explain All The Truly Awful Things In The World Like War And Murder And Brain Tumors, And We Can’t Fix These Things, So We Look At The Frightening Things That Are Closer To Us And We Magnify Them Until They Burst Open. Inside Is Something That We Can Manage, Something That Isn’t As Awful As It Had A First Seemed. It Is A Relief To Discover That Although There Might Be Axe Murderers And Kidnappers In The World, Most People Seem A Lot Like Us: Sometimes Afraid And Sometimes Brave, Sometimes Cruel And Sometimes Kind.

One Thing I'm Interested In Is What Shapes Us: The People? The Place Where We Live? It's Both Of Those And More. That's What I Keep Coming Back To.