My Mother And I Will Continue On

My Guys Are Morally Weak, And They Reach Toward A Tenuous Knowledge Of Self-sacrifice, And Sometimes It's Too Late. I Find That Moving. It's Not A Life I'd Want To Live. But, Then, I'm Not Completely My Books.

I Don't Think I Will Write Anything That Could Be Even Remotely Considered A Genre Novel From This Point On. I Think I've Graduated.

Some Men Get The World, Some Men Get Ex-hookers And A Trip To Arizona. You're In With The Former, But My God I Don't Envy The Blood On Your Conscience.

Other People, Some Other Writers, Will Win Certain Accolades Or Sell In Far Greater Numbers Than Me - And I'm A Legitimate Best-selling Author - But I Live And Die For The Work. That's Thrilling To Me. It's Thrilling That I Do For Others What Certain Writers Did For Me When I Was A Kid.

I Cleaned Up. I Quit Drinking, I Quit Doing Drugs, I Quit Stealing, I Quit Breaking Into Houses, I Tried To Quit Being A Bad Human Being. I Developed A Conscience Later In Life Than Many. I Call It The Lost-time-regained Dynamic.