The Role Of The Writer Is Not

There Is Not One Big Cosmic Meaning For All, There Is Only The Meaning We Each Give To Our Life, An Individual Meaning, An Individual Plot, Like An Individual Novel, A Book For Each Person.

Write. Write Until It Stops Hurting.

Sometimes We Reveal Ourselves When We Are Least Like Ourselves.

The Child Who Is Uprooted Begins To Recognize That What He Builds Within Himself Is What Will Endure, What Will Withstand Shattering Experiences.

Talk—half-talk, Phrases That Had No Need To Be Finished, Abstractions, Chinese Bells Played On With Cotton-tipped Sticks, Mock Orange Blossoms Painted On Porcelain. The Muffled, Close, Half-talk Of Soft-fleshed Women. The Men She Had Embraced, And The Women, All Washing Against The Resonance Of My Memory. Sound Within Sound, Scene Within Scene, Woman Within Woman—like Acid Revealing An Invisible Script. One Woman Within Another Eternally, In A Far-reaching Procession, Shattering My Mind Into Fragments, Into Quarter Tones Which No Orchestral Baton Can Ever Make Whole Again.