Our Worst Pain Is Confined Within Our

The Sixties Were Different In An Isolated Place. We Got Two Television Channels If The Wind Was Blowing In The Right Direction. The Radio Stations Went Off At Sundown. Then You Picked Up Chicago And Heard The Teenage Music You Really Yearned For.

Writing Doesn't Come Real Easy To Me. I Couldn't Write A Novel In A Year. It Wouldn't Be Readable. I Don't Let An Editor Even Look At It Until The Second Year, Because It Would Just Scare Them. I Just Have To Trust That All These Scraps And Dead-ends Will Find A Way.

Publishers Give You Deadlines For Those Last Phases Of Production That Are Perfectly Comfortable For Them. So, To Whatever Extent I Can, I Like To Push Those To Give Me A Little More Time, And Make It So That They're As Uncomfortable As I Am.

Ask Her What She Craved, And She'd Get A Little Frantic About Things Like Books, The Woods, Music. Plants And The Seasons. Also Freedom.

My Opinion Was That If Hogs Are Biting You So Often That You Have To Stop And Make Up A Specific Word For It, Maybe Lack Of Vocabulary Is Not Your Most Pressing Problem.