It was one of those brilliant southern California evenings I had quickly grown to love, in the few days I’d been here. I was zigzagging across the country, trying to figure out what was next, and had been told by my agent to do readings of my book in the Los Angeles area for two weeks. That's how I was measuring my life at this point - a matter of every two weeks, where I was going to go or stay or do readings or sign or talk to people. I put my master's degree on hold. I didn't know if I was ever going to go back to teaching, after I walked out on my last job. I wasn’t necessarily trying to find a place to live, to grow, and to settle down just yet. If someone was going to pay me to travel and write, why not take advantage of it?

The book was based on us, on the w...

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