Mark's latest novel is The Tetherballs of Bougainville.
My big mistake was breast reconstruction. Of course I'm smart enough to know that tits don't matter. But after a radical mastectomy in 1999, I went through the whole delightful drill of chemo and radiation. And through the months of treatment, I had this notion that when it was over I would have breast reconstruction. What I had in mind was two small implants. Exactly why I thought this was a good idea, I can no longer remember, but I can tell you that walking around with one large breast and a prosthetic is damned awkward.
— Molly Ivins
Molly is the author of Shrub: The Short but Happy Political Life of George W. Bush.
I was in the third grade when I first discovered the power of confession. All at once I was overwhelmed by a shattering sense of guilt. It was, I know now, a pure guilt: That is, I had no fear of retribution; I knew that teasing wasn't, strictly speaking, a punishable offense; nor did I believe in an afterlife in which I would suffer for my crime. All I knew was that I had been cruel to someone who was innocent and younger than myself.
— Novelist Francine Prose
Francine's most recent work is Blue Angel.
There's a saying (I'm sure you've heard it): It's the things you don't do in life that you regret. Well, I'm here to tell you: That's a big lie. Sometimes I'll be walking down the street, and I'll suddenly think of one of any number of Mr. Wrongs, the ones I didn't go to bed with. The thought of all the grief I've saved myself fills me with an exhilaration like helium; I haven't had a man, but I've had the whole world instead. It's a feeling they don't sing songs or make movies about, but it's real all the same.
— Laura Miller
Laura is the editor of The Salon.Com Reader's Guide to Contemporary Authors.