Susan Johnson

Long ago, as they say, in another time, when fast food hadn't reached our area and the only shopping was what the feed mill offered, I was reading a book that annoyed me . My husband was lying beside me in bed, watching TV. Turning to him, I petulantly said, "How the hell did this book get published?" "If you think you're so smart," he replied, with one eye still on the TV, "why don't you write a book?" So I did.