I Hate To Be Fatalistic About It,

A Writers Job Is To Destroy And Then To Build The Thing Back Up Again By A Chosen Means.

If You Are Able To Explain Suffering, A Man Once Told Him, You Weren't Really There.

I Don't Really Care About Plot; I Want To Have A Page-turner In A Different Kind Of Way.

I Thought I Was Writing For A Fairly Hip, Intelligent Crowd; I Just Thought There Were More Of Them Out There. But They're Not. They're Not Out There Waiting. They're Not Gonna Use Their Intelligence On Your Book.

Randomness I Love. And I Still Love Just A Holler Right In The Middle Of An Ongoing Narrative. Pain Or Joy, Ecstasy.