Sounds exciting, Dr. Sue. But aren't all those people in Elyse's seminars, and all those people in your midwives' groups, the platform? Certainly, they're the foundation for a platform, as they all have clients and belong to professional groups and so on . . .

This is a great story, Dr. Sue, and well told. I've been thinking lately, about my writing, that when I'm struggling to make a decision about what a character will do or how a plot will turn or whatever, that the particular decision is less important than the fact of doing it with conviction. Make a decision and commit to it fully . . . that's what I've been telling myself. That seems to be at the core of your Rita Hayworth transformation . . . conviction and commitment. Full immersion.

Dr. Sue, Thanks for validating that special feeling of vulnerability that accompanies publishing. I somewhere read a quote from Francine Prose along the lines of "publication is in a sense the punishment for all your hard work."

Great piece, Dr. Sue. Thanks for the reminder of what REALLY matters. Love the E von B story and followed the link to look at his work. Thanks for that too.

Okay, okay. When the doctor summons, what choice does one have but to respond? First, thanks for the special invitation and for sharing your own personal and painful story. Now, for me. Going back to early roots . . . I could say that I had an extremely extroverted and talkative older sister who loved to perform and be the center of attention and was not overly happy to have an interloper/new baby in the house. I, by a combination of nature and innate survivalist instincts to find a niche and work around the competition, was quite shy and quiet. I rarely spoke up in class at school. If I even thought about asking a question or making a comment, my heart pounded so hard in my chest that I thought it could be heard all over the room. I could say that with these restrictions on my ability to speak, I developed a strong desire to be heard, to communicate my thoughts and feelings. Putting them on paper (or so it may have seemed) would allow me maximum control, would eliminate the pressure and interference and fear of other voices or personalities. It was a way to say the whole thing that I wanted to say without interruption.

Excellent question, Dr. Sue. I don't know the answer for myself, but I will surely be reflecting on it over the coming hours and days. One thing I have often heard authors say in interviews is something along the lines of "there was a strong storytelling tradition in my family," or "my grandmother [or mother or father etc.] was a wonderful storyteller, and I grew up listening to these stories." In fact, my mother was a good storyteller--she made stories very funny--but I'm not sure if that's why I became a writer.