Because, Really, What Was Worse Than Lying

Jill Felt An Emptiness Open Inside Of Her As She Lifted Her Arm, A Sense That Something Vital Was Being Subtracted From Her Life. It Was Always Like That When Somebody You Cared About Went Away, Even When You Knew It Was Inevitable, And It Probably Wasn't Your Fault.

I Have Actual Dreams Of Bruce Springsteen Calling Me Up On Stage To Wear A Bandanna And Play Rhythm Guitar Next To Little Steven.

I Used To Describe Myself As A Comic Novelist, But My Concerns Seem To Have Darkened Over The Past Few Years.

My Mythic Version Of America Is Very Much About Parents And Children, And In My Experience, The Suburban Setting Is Where That Particular Drama Plays Out. Which Isn't To Say That There Aren't Parents And Children In Cities Or On Farms. I Just Don't Know Them.

There's Not Some Finite Amount Of Pain Inside Us. Our Bodies And Minds Just Keep Manufacturing More Of It.