When my stepfather died, I just kind of fell apart. I felt pretty vulnerable, like there literally could be no tomorrow.
Father or stepfather - those are just titles to me. They don't mean anything.
My stepfather was a very nasty individual.
I did go on safari in Kenya when I was 17, with my mother, stepfather and little brother, and I kept a careful journal of the experience that was very helpful in terms of my sensory impressions of Africa. I have traveled quite a bit at distinct times in my life, though now that I have kids I've settled down.
I lived in a world where I didn't share the love for my stepfather that my mother shared for him. She married him.
My mother was a classical pianist and my stepfather was an industrialist who was passionate about composing contemporary music.
I think how strict my mother's home could be with my mom and my stepfather, there was a fluidity and freedom in my dad's existence that I enjoyed when I was around him, though the responsibility was just different. He expected me to carry myself a certain way without all the rules and confines.
My stepfather introduced me to The London Library when I was about 18; the clientele has definitely changed since then, but it is still a wonderful oasis in the middle of London.
My stepfather and my mother, I love them to death.
My stepfather used to run hotels all around the world.
