I write the stories and voices I hear in my head. I’m not schizophrenic. I’m aware of daily life but, as a writer, my inspiration comes from those voices. I hear Tootie saying how she forgives the black boy that shot and killed her white son; Suzette is so loud when she comes through the door of her father’s funeral home, yelling at the rain and complaining to Portia about black folks buying Lladro; when Richard’s charms are not winning over Rachel whose already been there – done that – seen it all, and this mother fucker is in her way of closing the bar; Latasha, a sixteen-year-old from South Central whose got dreams of being a lawyer and making a difference in her community. I write what the voices in my head tell me to say and in doing so, I add my flavor, opinions, and life experiences to the dialogue. They are rich stories about all kinds of people that bump up against other people that don’t look like me.