It's Hard For Me To Think Of

I Drink Coffee. Without Coffee, I Probably Couldnt Write.

After My First Novel, My Mother Said To Me, 'why Don't You Make Your Writing More Funny? You're So Funny In Person.' Because My First Novel Was Rather Dark. And I Don't Know, But Something About What She Said Was True. 'yes, Why Don't I?' Maybe I Was Afraid To Be Funny In The Writing. But Since Then, Seven Books Later, Almost Everything I've Done Has A Comedic Edge To It.

From Age 23 To 44 - I'm 45 Now - I Was Always In Need Of Money, And I Was Especially In Need Of It From 23 To About 34, And My Great Aunt Would Always Give Me Money, A Hundred Bucks, Every Two Months Or So, And A Lot Of Times That Hundred Bucks Made A Huge Difference - I Could Eat Or Pay A Small Bill. It Kept Me Going. She Gave Me Money. It Was Very Loving.

Something Has Happened Where You Almost Never Grow Up In America. Maybe It's The Greater Wealth.

Some Ego Is Involved Because I Guess One Wants To Be Perceived As A Good Clown And One Puts One's Name On The Art; But It's So Hard To Do Anything In Life, Trapped As We Are In Our Bodies, That Is Purely Selfless For Others... Somehow The Self Is Always Involved.