Dear Lord, Please Show Me Everything I

Moss Grows Where Nothing Else Can Grow. It Grows On Bricks. It Grows On Tree Bark And Roofing Slate. It Grows In The Arctic Circle And In The Balmiest Tropics; It Also Grows On The Fur Of Sloths, On The Backs Of Snails, On Decaying Human Bones. ... It Is A Resurrection Engine. A Single Clump Of Mosses Can Lie Dormant And Dry For Forty Years At A Stretch, And Then Vault Back Again Into Life With A Mere Soaking Of Water.

The Beauty Of Doing Nothing

I Don't Hate Humanity And I'm Not Interested In People Who Do. Although, It's Funny, Actually, Some Of My Favorite Writers Really Do. Like Martin Amis. My Dirty Secret. 'london Fields' Is One Of My Favorite Books Ever. And It's Indefensible! But He's So Funny... I Forgive Him Everything.

When A Man Who Looks Like Yoda Hands You A Prophecy, You Have To Respond.

I'm Not Particularly Inventive. If You Left Me In а Room And Told Me To Write A Novel, I Wouldn't Be Able To Do It. But If You Gave Me Two Years In A Public Library Around The Corner, I Could. It All Comes From Sort Of Mixing The True And The Invented. I'm Not A Fabulist. I'm More Of A Reporter.