The question arises as to whether it is possible not to live in the world of men and still to live in the world.

Every time I say sure when I mean no, every time I smile brightly when I'm exploding with rage, every time I imagine my man's achievement is my own, I know the cheerleader never really died. I feel her shaking her ass inside me and I hear her breathless, girlish voice mutter T-E-A-M, Yea, Team.

Female friendships that work are relationships in which women help each other belong to themselves.

Every time I say ''sure'' when I mean ''no,'' every time I smile brightly when I'm exploding with rage, every time I imagine my man's achievement is my own, I know the cheerleader never really died. I feel her shaking her ass inside me and I hear her breathless, girlish voice mutter ''T-E-A-M, Yea, Team.''

Humor tells you where the trouble is

A good novel is a good novel, pointe finale. And I think what I'm writing is exactly that.