Big Bill intercepted me as I walked through the tunnel under the stands, to the locker room. "Hey, I hear you're sitting this one out. Where you gonna...be?" I'll be in my family's box, upstairs. Why don't you meet me when you're done down here, and I'll buy you dinner?" He liked that and nodded as he made his way out towards the bullpen.Mr. Bell had a visitor when I walked in to the club offices. Mason Pendleton was in deep conversation with him about something that looked serious. He glanced up. It has nothing to do with art. It’s an outlet, and it’s fun, but it’s not art.” She seemed thoughtful and serious when she replied. “I think writing is an art,” she said quietly. “At least not less than any other art.”“Well, alright,” I said. “If you think of my writing as art, then it’s very, very dirty art.” I laughed. “So, I guess your ... characters, then, are ... unconventional women?” she asked. I shrugged. “What’s a conventional woman? I love all women, no matter what they look like. Are. More

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