Lynn's Comments: Not wanting the family to settle into a comfortable routine, I decided to introduce the "helpful" relative who shows up to make life easier and winds up making everything a whole lot worse!
Lynn's Comments: Everyone has that well- meaning relative who wants to help but is no help at all. They always show up at births, deaths and other times where this kind of help is the last thing you need.
Lynn's Comments: Because there had never been a cat in the strip, I decided to add one that was less than friendly. Stuff like this gave me lots to work with; maybe too much!
Lynn's Comments: I tried to make Aunt Fiona one of those insidious characters who tests the limits of one's hospitality to the max.
Lynn's Comments: Aunt Fiona is loosely based on someone I know.
Lynn's Comments: This is the reason I don’t have a cat. Dogs, when they disappear, are somewhere down low. A cat, on the other hand, can be anywhere!
Lynn's Comments: Fiona was such a wonderful character to write. I wished I could have written a story about her alone.
Lynn's Comments: Making Fiona a heavy smoker, gave me an outlet to rant against smoking.
Lynn's Comments: Gossiping was an area where I could really let out a good rant! For Better or For Worse became a bit of a forum for this sort of thing.
Lynn's Comments: I had the opportunity to put in a name that wouldn’t be linked to a featured character in the strip. Cecily Beard is a dear friend and at the time we had lost touch. By putting her name in the strip, I was able to connect with her after almost 30 years. We met at the airport, arms around each other, crying and laughing and saying "you haven’t changed at all!"
Lynn's Comments: Belfrey Avenue. I loved making up funny names for streets, businesses, products and even people.
Lynn's Comments: Here, the gossip machine works against an innocent guy. In a television series, writers could spin out this situation for weeks!
Lynn's Comments: When I was about 15, my dad's mother came to live with us for a few weeks. Weeks turned into months. It was my room she was given and I had to sleep in the unfinished basement. No matter how nicely my folks fixed it up, I was still banished from my own bed—looking at studs and drywall, watching for spiders and listening for things that go bump in the night. During the day, I'd go into my room for clothes and school supplies, and grandma's teeth would grin at me from a jar on my bedside table. I loved my grandmother but I was glad when she left so I could go back to the security and familiarity of my own space. My room smelled like "Grandma" for ages!