My father read 'The New York Times,' my mother did secretarial work, we had a dog, we had a garden, I had a brother.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My father was a journalist.
My father, who was from a wealthy family and highly educated, a lawyer, Yale and Columbia, walked out with the benefit of a healthy push from my mother, a seventh grade graduate, who took a typing course and got a secretarial job as fast as she could.
My father ran London Films. He made films like 'The Red Shoes,' 'The Third Man.' And he had had a long career in the film business, which was bifurcated with a career in intelligence. He had to deal with gangsters, and sometimes he would take me with him. Also, I went to school with their children.
My father worked all the time.
My mother worked in advertising and my father was a journalist. But they split up when I was three and I grew up in a single-parent family. My mum brought my brother and I up.
My dad was a New York City cop. His father was a New York City fireman. And my mother's dad was a city taxi driver.
My father had an invisible job outside of the house; I didn't know what he did. But my kids were privy to the ups and downs of a writer's life.
I wrote a book with my mom and my sister for fun. I had no idea it would be a 'New York Times' bestseller.
My dad sold encyclopedias and my mom worked in a factory office.
I had a mixture, my father was a career army man and my mother was a writer.