A. "Don't pick it." My Mom told me that, and it applies to any number of situations.
A. That women's fiction is still -- still! -- considered less worthy than the stuff men writer. And that's if it's considered at all.
A. A quiet afternoon, a down comforter, a fire in the fireplace, a great book. (Oh, and snacks. Maybe tea and shortbread).
A. I am terrifically thin-skinned, and I hold grudges. So don't piss me off! Not even accidentally!
A. I can sing adequately, but if I could, I'd love to be really, really good. Good enough to take it on the road.