A novel about women, jazz and becoming a writer…That night I told my father I needed to speak to him. I told him that the only thing I wanted to do in the world was to write, that school was driving me crazy, that I had to get away. To get away and write.He looked at me and his strong brown eyes were brimming with sorrow. He said, You know, son. I always wanted to write. Maybe you should take the chance and do it. Okay. Okay? He nodded. Okay. Now I was really scared. Now I had permission. Sometimes permission is the scariest thing in the world.