I am reading a report that Millie made for me as her job as my publicist. It is too wordy and doesn't focus on what I want it to. She comes up all happy to see how I liked her report. I sit down and start explaining. I say, "It's great, really, but look, these first two sentences about men's voices and women working for democracy and motherhood, that's the first thing the people will read and this isn't what I'm trying to say. I want them to know about my creativity and my works." She explains why she thought that was a good idea and why she started the report that way. Then I point to the picture of Ellie and Charla and a bunch of other people and say, "You spend pages talking about them and my relationship with them, but that's not the point. My creative projects are the point. People don't know this is my daughter and my granddaughter." Millie feels a bit defensive and I'm trying not to hurt her feelings. Now I watch a woman, like Sally Fields, all cute and perky, who is going into a big office place to retrieve a doll for her daughter. The man boss is asking her questions about her creative talents. She shrugs and says she's too busy with making this doll for her daughter. The man looks at the Raggedy Ann doll and sees it is well made and says, "How did you make that?" She says, as she struggles to put the good one up on the window with sticky stuff on the forehead, "I just saw the pattern and then made it." The man is impressed with her skill, but the woman isn't even focusing and doesn't realize she has any talent.