via
Writing was a vital part of Coleman's life, and she was never able to resolve her passion for it against the demands of motherhood. In 1929, she wrote her husband, Loyd Coleman, "...your son is horrible he is the sweetest and most original but honestly dearest I cannot go through with it. ... No use, these last few months have finished me for motherhood -- I might as well let the sentimental and rosy dreams go by the board and face the fact that the deeper my writing goes the farther behind I leave what is behind."