The Bible is very resonant. It has everything: creation, betrayal, lust, poetry, prophecy, sacrifice. All great things are in the Bible, and all great writers have drawn from it and more than people realise, whether Shakespeare, Herman Melville or Bob Dylan.

I'm a bit of a dynamite fisherman when it comes to cooking as I don't have the patience, but I am a huge foodie.

I was looking very much for a career. My second marriage to Stan Herman had ended, and I wanted very much to be independent, not take alimony from him, be on my own, do the right thing.

If you want to know why the coast is such an inspirational place, ask Herman Melville, Jack London, Nordhoff and Hall, Robert Louis Stevenson or Joseph Conrad. It's a glimpse of eternity. It invites rumination, the relentless whisper of the tide against the shore.

I was a hunter and fisherman, and many a time I have slipped out into the woods and prairies at 4 a.m. and brought home plenty of game, or have gone in a canoe to the cove and brought back a good supply of fresh fish.

Cajun is country food by farmers and fisherman that arrived in Louisiana from Acadiana, Canada.

They eat the dainty food of famous chefs with the same pleasure with which they devour gross peasant dishes, mostly composed of garlic and tomatoes, or fisherman's octopus and shrimps, fried in heavily scented olive oil on a little deserted beach.

Bent Literary Agency had a Q&A on Twitter, and I took a chance and asked if the Black Lives Matter movement was an appropriate topic for a YA novel. Brooks Sherman, who is now my agent, responded that he didn't think any topics were inappropriate for YA. I remember being so terrified even just sending the tweet.

"I went to the bathroom and put each hand forcefully down on opposite sides of the sink. I looked straight into the mirror before me and stared at the person I'd been ignoring for some time now. I didn't have to say much. I already knew all this person's demons. I shook my head in disapproval. The alcohol and hate were killing me. What they missed, the depression whittled at unrelentingly. My whole life I had been told that I didn't look like a fisherman. All the while the only thing I wished to be was a fisherman. I screamed at the mirror in pure rage.

?Si nuestra amistad depende de cosas como el espacio y el tiempo, entonces, cuando por fin superemos el espacio y el tiempo, habremos destruido nuestra propia hermandad! Pero supera el espacio, y nos quedar? s?lo un Aqu?. Supera el tiempo, y nos quedar? s?lo un Ahora. Y entre el Aqu? y el Ahora, ?no crees que podremos volver a vernos un par de veces?

Te sientes sola cuando sales con un chico, y haces el amor en su piso, y ?l se esfuerza por ser simp?tico y hacerte sentir bien, pero es como si todas sus atenciones se dirigiesen a tu cuerpo y no a tu mente (te hace el amor, te hace la cena) y sientes que cada minuto que pasas con ?l solo contribuye a que os cans?is un poco m?s el uno del otro, y cuando os separ?is finges que es doloroso, pero en realidad lo est?s deseando porque supone un alivio dejar de esforzarte por complacer al otro, y cuando llegas a casa tientes la impresi?n de que ?l ya no ha vuelto a pensar en ti desde que saliste de la suya, tienes la sensaci?n de que has salido de su vida para siempre, aunque sepas que al d?a siguiente te volver? a llamar y volver?s a tener sexo con ?l, pero esa noche, mientras te desnudas en silencio y te metes en la cama, est?s segura de que ?l no est? pensando en ti, que nadie piensa en ti, en realidad, y tambi?n est?s segura de que si descuelgas el tel?fono y llamas a tu madre, a tus hermanas o a alguna de tus pocas amigas, o lo llamas a ?l, cualquiera de ellos se sorprender? de ver tu n?mero y de o?r tu voz, y les llevar? unos segundos hacer un hueco para acomodar tu presencia en su mundo, porque solo eres algo ajeno que entra y sale a la escena de sus vidas, algo que no deja m?s huella que un tenue rastro de incomodidad. La soledad es algo dif?cil de explicar, y si no te has sentido as? jam?s, enhorabuena.

Public truth telling is a form of recovery, especially when combined with social action. Sharing traumatic experiences with others enables victims to reconstruct repressed memory, mourn loss, and master helplessness, which is trauma's essential insult. And, by facilitating reconnection to ordinary life, the public testimony helps survivors restore basic trust in a just world and overcome feelings of isolation. But the talking cure is predicated on the existence of a community willing to bear witness. 'Recovery can take place only within the context of relationships,' write Judith Herman. 'It cannot occur in isolation.

I found my God in music and the arts, with writers like Hermann Hesse, and musicians like Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, and Little Walter. In some way, in some form, my God was always there, but now I have learned to talk to him.

"After some cogitation, it is difficult not to agree with Herman Bondi (1919 - 2005), who in his book 'Relativity and Common Sense' says:

In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York is in heavy boots.

I never really was that passionate about playing sports. But when I was at this Mt. Herman school I did have the ability to throw the frisbee. So when this sport evolved it was fun because I was good at it.

I was looking very much for a career. My second marriage to Stan Herman had ended and I wanted very much to be independent not take alimony from him be on my own do the right thing.

Cajun is country food by farmers and fisherman that arrived in Louisiana from Acadiana Canada.

They eat the dainty food of famous chefs with the same pleasure with which they devour gross peasant dishes mostly composed of garlic and tomatoes or fisherman's octopus and shrimps fried in heavily scented olive oil on a little deserted beach.

So for twelve miles I rode with Sherman and we became fast friends. He asked me all manner of questions on the way and I found that he knew my father well and remembered his tragic death in Salt Creek Valley.