... [i] Recall Thinking That The Computer

My Boyfriend Got Me A Computer Three Years Ago. I'll Admit It Does Make Things A Lot Easier. When I Was Working On A Typewriter And I Whited Out A Line, Often I Would Choose A Word To Go In The Space Just Because It Fit. Now I Don't Have To Do That.

Like All Of My Friends, She's A Lousy Judge Of Character.

Even As A Child I Was Fascinated By Death, Not In A Spiritual Sense, But In An Aesthetic One. A Hamster Or Guinea Pig Would Pass Away, And, After Burying The Body, I'd Dig It Back Up: Over And Over, Until All That Remained Was A Shoddy Pelt. It Earned Me A Certain Reputation, Especially When I Moved On To Other People's Pets. "igor," They Called Me. "wicked, Spooky." But I Think My Interest Was Actually Fairly Common, At Least Among Adolescent Boys. At That Age, Death Is Something That Happens Only To Animals And Grandparents, And Studying It Is Like A Science Project.

When You Read Comic Material And People Aren't Laughing How Do You Know They're Listening.

I Tend To Write Things Seven Times Before I Show Them To My Editor. I Write Them Seven Times, Then I Take Them On Tour, Read Them Like A Dozen Times On Tour, Then Go Back To The Room And Rewrite, Read And Rewrite... I Would Never Show Him A First Draft, Because Then He's Really Going To Be Sick Of It By The Twelfth Draft.