In our household, the catchphrase is in honor of my 11-year-old fan, who heard me read at a party once and now wants to see all my work. Fortunately, she doesn't yet know about this blog, so I don't have to clean up my act here. But her taste for my autobiographical writing leaves me with a continual question as to how intense things can get—not so much with respect to sex, but in matters of violence and emotional sturm und drang.

If her name is Carol, the household conversation goes something like this: "don't worry, Honey; you'll find your Carol." We say that to each other over and over again.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 02:13 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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