I Do No Writing While I'm In

We're All Entitled To Our Superstitions.

In The Mess Of Moving From Place To Place, I Skipped Two Grades In The Space Of One Year.

When I Was Eight Years Old, I Wrote A Paragraph-long Short Story About A Goat On My Mother's Hundred-pound, Black-and-white-screen Laptop. The Story Came About Largely Because I Liked The Way The Word 'goat' Looked On The Page, But I Decided Then And There That I Wanted To Be A Writer. That Desire Never Changed.

At The End Of The Day, It's About The Reader's Attachment To And Belief In The Magical Elements That Make Or Break Magical Realism.

I Think The Mythology Of Death Really Ran Away With Me When I Was Very Young.