In The Course Of Transferring All My

I Once Had A Boyfriend Who Couldn't Write Unless He Was Wearing A Necktie And A Dress Shirt, Which I Thought Was Really Weird, Because This Was A Long Time Ago, And No One I Knew Ever Wore Dress Shirts, Let Alone Neckties; It Was Like He Was A Grown-up Reenacter Or Something.

I Really Believed That Anything At All Was Worth Writing About If You Cared About It Enough, And That The Best And Only Necessary Justification For Writing Any Particular Story Was That I Cared About It.

I Feel Somewhat Responsible For The Borders Books Bankruptcy.

To My Great Surprise, Twitter Is Not Housed In A Silver Pod That Orbits Earth At Supersonic Speeds, Vacuuming Up And Then Dispersing Digital Bits Of Worldwide Chitchat; It's In A Big, Bland Office Building In Downtown San Francisco, Near A Bowling Alley And An Old Navy.

Most Writing Doesn’t Take Place On The Page; It Takes Place In Your Head.