How Wonderful It Was To Love Something

We Americans Are Trained To Think Big, Talk Big, Act Big, Love Big, Admire Bigness But Then The Essential Mystery Is In The Small.

Wherever We Go We Do Harm, Forgiving Ourselves As Wheels Do Cement For Wearing Each Other Out. We Set This House On Fire, Forgetting That We Live Within. (from "to A Meadowlark," For M.l. Smoker)

I Write Novellas Because I Don't Like Loose Sprawling Prose.

I Do Have Trouble With Titles.

I Used To Get Criticized For Putting Food In Novels.