Cora Dawn Taylor has been writing about love and family since before she could spell "confession." She holds a hypocritical love of Ernest Hemingway and keeps a stack of books on a shelf by her bathtub. Ms. Taylor lives in Cincinnati with her dog's stale breath and her husband's lush paintings. Her essays are only complete after she has terrorized her writing partner with a half-dozen rounds of editing. Cora does not tell her mother about her writing getting published, because her mother -- the tight-lipped warden of decades of family skeletons -- may be disappointed. Cora hopes that her writing and the half-held secrets within are familiar to her readers.