I Begin By Assembling Notes On Characters.

Where’s Your Sketch Pad?” I Asked. … “i Gave That Up,” Kay Said. “i Wasn’t Very Good, So I Changed My Major.” “to What?” “to Pre-med, Then Psychology, Then English Lit, Then History.” “i Like A Woman Who Knows What She Wants.” Kay Smiled. “so Do I, But I Don’t Know Any.

I Have Insane Curiosity As To What Happened In All These Events. I Will Never Know. I'm Not A Researcher. I Don't Possess That Kind Of Mind. I Have A Researcher Who Compiles The Fact Sheets And Chronologies That Allow Me To Write These Big Books Of Mine.

My Father Actually Went To College, And My Mother Went To Nursing School, So, You Know. I Wouldn't... They Were Actually Too Square And Right-wing To Be Hip, Too Well-educated To Be White Trash, Too Sexy To Be Square. They Really Didn't Fit Any Mold. They Weren't Really Hipsters. They Were Just - They Were Two Of A Kind, Those Two.

I Don't Think I Will Write Anything That Could Be Even Remotely Considered A Genre Novel From This Point On. I Think I've Graduated.

Cats Gotta Scratch. Dogs Gotta Bite. I Gotta Write.