All Writers Have Roots They Draw From

Thoughts Are No More Than Electrical Surges In The Brain. Sexual Arousal Is No More Than A Flow Of Chemicals To Certain Nerve Endings. Sadness Is No More Than A Bit Of Acid Transfixed In The Cerebellum. In Short, The Body Is A Machine, Subject To The Same Laws Of Electricity And Mechanics As An Electron Or Clock.

"the Diagnosis" Is By Far My Most Ambitious Book. I Such Great Hopes For It... There Was So Much I Wanted To Do With The Book. I Was Extremely Insecure About It For Several Years. Just Didn't Know Whether I Would Finish The Book Much Less For It To Come Close To What I Intended. I Think That For Any Novel You Never Know Exactly How The Book Is Going To Turn Out...

But What Is The Past? Could It Be, The Firmness Of The Past Is Just Illusion? Could The Past Be A Kaleidoscope, A Pattern Of Images That Shift With Each Disturbance Of A Sudden Breeze, A Laugh, A Thought? And If The Shift Is Everywhere, How Would We Know?

In A World Without Future, Each Parting Of Friends Is A Death. In A World Without Future, Each Loneliness Is Final. In A World Without Future, Each Laugh Is The Last Laugh. In A World Without Future, Beyond The Present Lies Nothingness, And People Cling To The Present As If Hanging From A Cliff.

Franz Kafka Is An Idea Person. His Books Begin And End In Ideas. Ideas Have Always Been Important To Me In My Writing. To The Point That I Have To Be Careful That They Don't Take Over.