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Thanks

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I thank my parents, Rita and Bud Marcus, for putting up with a lot of crap, providing material for me to write about, exposing me to many things and inspiring me in many ways.

I thank my wife, Marilyn Marcus, for loving me, encouraging me and tolerating me. She used to be jealous, but now she knows that if I’m not in bed at 3 a.m., I’m with a computer, not with another woman. Marilyn is a worrier and thinks I should have changed every name in this book. I’m betting she’s wrong. We’ll see what happens.

In ancient Greek mythology, the “muses” were beautiful goddesses who inspired the creation of literature and art. I’ve had several muses, and they are all beautiful and smart women.

For most of my 41-year writing career, I’ve written about things, and about how people related to them. In 2004, I started writing about people without the things. In 2009, I finally became comfortable writing about emotions.

This most recent and most important evolutionary development coincided with my reconnecting with Rosemary Garcia. We dated in high school and college. In 2009, after no contact for 43 years, Rosemary emailed me from 1,300 miles away. She helped me to become a more complete writer, and a happier, more tolerant and less cynical person.

Deborah Lurie Edery was my first muse. She put me in the mood to write more stories after she said she liked the first one in 2005. Deb is a very important former girlfriend from college, who reconnected with me via email from 15 miles away, after about 40 years. Deb activated my memory and pushed me to turn thoughts into pages. This book would not exist without her.

Phyllis Caplow Helfand put me in the mood to finish writing the stories after I stalled and got out of the mood. Phyllis was one of the first females I was attracted to, when we were in the second grade in 1953. In 2007 Phyllis became my second email muse, reconnecting after 43 years from 3,000 miles away. Her unintentional but powerful push was a nice payback for the cookies I gave her 55 years earlier. Phyllis remembered things about me that I forgot. This book would not exist without her.

Stories I'd Tell My Children (But Maybe Not Until They're Adults)

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