We Wait Till Now? Now, When We're

The Six Golden Rules Of Writing: Read, Read, Read, And Write, Write, Write.

Sometimes You Got To Hurt Something To Help Something. Sometimes You Have To Plow Under One Thing In Order For Something Else To Grow.

"what For?" I Said. "what For, Tante Lou? He Treated Me The Same Way He Treated Her. He Wants Me To Feel Guilty, Just As He Wants Her To Feel Guilty. Well, I'm Not Feeling Guilty, Tante Lou. I Didn't Put Him There. I Do Everything I Know How To Do To Keep People Like Him From Going There. He's Not Going To Make Me Feel Guilty."

I Suppose I Started Writing Seriously At 16 Years Old. I Thought I Wrote A Novel At 16 And Sent It To New York! They Sent It Back Because It Wasn't Novel.

Now, About That Mulatto Teacher And Me. There Was No Love There For Each Other. There Was Not Even Respect. We Were Enemies If Anything. He Hated Me, And I Knew It, And He Knew I Knew It. I Didn't Like Him, But I Needed Him, Needed Him To Tell Me Something That None Of The Others Could Or Would.