There Was No One, When I Was

Randomness I Love. And I Still Love Just A Holler Right In The Middle Of An Ongoing Narrative. Pain Or Joy, Ecstasy.

My Stories Do Have Plot. They're Not Just Scattered Language; They're Controlled, Toward An End.

I Do Believe That As You Write More And Age, The Arrogance And Most Of The Vanity Goes. Or It Is A Vanity Met With Vast Gratitude, That You Were Hit By Something As You Stood In The Way Of It, That Anybody Is Listening.

I Thought I Was Writing For A Fairly Hip, Intelligent Crowd; I Just Thought There Were More Of Them Out There. But They're Not. They're Not Out There Waiting. They're Not Gonna Use Their Intelligence On Your Book.

There Was No One, When I Was In School, Who Talked About Going In And Blowing Up Students. The Teachers Were Very Stern And Hateable, But Nobody Ever Mentioned Murder.