My father was an electrical engineer who worked at Westinghouse in Pittsburgh. When I was growing up, my mother wrote humor columns for the local paper. She was the Erma Bombeck of Murrysville, Pa.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My father was an engineer - he wasn't literary, not a writer or a journalist, but he was one of the world's great readers.
When I was really young, Dad wasn't that well known. I don't remember when I realised he was a writer, but I do remember him leaving his full-time job at the Central Electrical Generating Board to concentrate on books.
My mother was a reporter, and though she quit when they had kids, she still loved it. She told me about the people at the paper and the articles she wrote. She had the best memory of anyone I know, and she could really tell a tale.
In the beginning, my mother humored me when I told her I wanted to be a reporter.
My father died when I was young, and my mother, Ruth, went to work in an office selling theater and movie parties. She put me through private school, Horace Mann, in Riverdale. She sent me to camp so that I would learn to compete. She was a lioness, and I was her cub.
Before she married my father, my mother was a film reviewer for The Akron Beacon Journal - a small newspaper.
My dad was the baby. When he was born they were already successful. They sent him to business school - he probably would have loved to have been a poet or a writer or something, and he was very creative.
My father was a writer and an acting teacher.
My dad was a jingle writer, and my mom was a jewelry designer and musician.
My father was a journalist.