It has not been an easy cross to bear. It has caused considerable confusion. My husband constantly complained about the awkwardness of being married to a woman whom he called Sister.

The last occasions when the timetable of our lives would be interrupted for many years to come.

Even my aunt Joan, hopelessly sentimental about every member of our family, admitted that I was hideous.

As is said about most writers, on the one hand, all I ever did from when I was a child was read, and I was a loner, which was furthered by my parents and my upbringing. On the other hand, the more I read, the more I felt this well-known fissure between me and the world.

If children can't handle competition when it's necessary, or take some criticism, or never strive to be better because their parents inadvertently programmed them to believe they are already the best even when they're not, then they are in for some serious shocks and bumps down the road.

Let's be honest: the label of model-daughter-of-celebrity mother is... you know, I don't want to have that label. It's not who I am. It's not my values to go off someone else's name and to be pigeonholed as that. So in a way, that has really pushed me to be more independent.

All the women in my family are very dramatic by themselves. They make the biggest things out of nothing. I think that's where I learned a lot about being emotional.