It's not steak. It's carrots. Bao's mad about carrots, I told Marlene. So she shoved the bowl of buttered carrots across the table and told him, Go for it! As you can see, he did.

Three editors rejected my novel. Everyone says I shouldn't worry because lots of novels are rejected dozens of times before someone sees the light, and I know they're right, but it doesn't help. One of the editors said the story was "too quiet." Too quiet? How -- I wonder -- does one go about writing a noisy novel?

And I just received news that although my friend Morag's surgery was successful, she's developed an infection. As you know, that is not good. It's no use calling the hospital, because I'm not a relative and they won't tell me anything.

So rather than sit at home and fret , I got in the car and headed for Mexico, arriving just in time for dinner at Marlene's place. It's beautiful here. The sea, the sky, the sun. So i write quiet novels. So what?