Irony - The Modern Mode: Either The

Is Any Novelist Going To Recognize The Moment When He Or She Has Nothing More To Say? It Is A Brave Thing To Admit. And Since As A Professional Writer You Are Full Of Anxiety Anyway, You Could Easily Misread The Signs.

Often The Grind Of Book Promotion Wearies You Of Your Own Book - Though At The Same Time This Frees You From Its Clutches.

Because Love Is The Meeting Point Of Truth And Magic. Truth, As In Photography; Magic, As In Ballooning.

When You Are In Your Twenties, Even If You're Confused And Uncertain About Your Aims And Purposes, You Have A Strong Sense Of What Life Itself Is, And Of What You In Life Are, And Might Become. Later.. Later There Is More Uncertainty, More Overlapping, More Backtracking, More False Memories. Back Then, You Can Remember Your Short Life In Its Entirety. Later, The Memory Becomes A Thing Of Shreds And Patches.

Whores. Necessary In The Nineteenth Century For The Contraction Of Syphilis, Without Which No One Could Claim Genius.