“While I was so proud and thrilled for him, I could also indulge in some grand moments of self-pity. Why did I choose this, of all professions, to go into when Horton Foote was my father? It never lasted very long; it couldn’t, as he was always the one I would call, and he’d remind me that over the years he’d wasted too much time comparing himself to other playwrights. Then he’d tell me: ‘Just keep writing. Keep writing.'”