For The Record, Pot, Like The Reader's

There Are Ten Commandments, Right? Well, It's Like An Exam. You Get Eight Out Of Ten, You're Just About Top Of The Class.

Canada Is One Of The Few Places Left Where The Small Decencies Are Observed. If, As A Young Man, I Was Scornful Of The Country Because We Always Seemed So Far Behind Style-setting New York, I Now Thank God For The Cultural Lag. Ours, After All, Is The Good Neighbourhood. A Society Well Worth Preserving.

Fiorito Has All The Right Stuff. His Splendid Memoir About His Relationship With His Dying Father Belongs On That Small Shelf With Philip Roth's Patrimony And Frank Mccourt's Angela's Ashes.

I Work Every Day - Or At Least I Force Myself Into Office Or Room. I May Get Nothing Done, But You Don't Earn Bonuses Without Putting In Time. Nothing May Come For Three Months, But You Don't Earn The Fourth Without It.

I Had, Like Any Other Young Novelist, Started Out By Believing The Difficult Thing Was To Get Published And That, Once You Managed That, Well, Your Financial Problems Were Over. I Discovered, Like Any Other Serious Novelist, That Actually They Had Only Just Begun.