Vinegar: That's What Fear Smells Like.

Oh We'll Know Each Other Forever, Bix Says. The Days Of Losing Touch Are Almost Gone.

I Can't Tell If She's Actually Real, Or If She's Stopped Caring If She's Real Or Not. Or Is Not Caring What Makes A Person Real?

What I Suddenly Understand My Job Is To Make People Uncomfortable. + I Will Do It All My Life. ---> My Mother, Sasha Blake, Is My First Victim.

When The Clock Stops On A Life, All Things Emanating From It Become Precious, Finite, And Cordoned Off For Preservation. Each Aspect Of The Dead Person Is Removed From The Flux Of The Everyday, Which, Of Course, Is Where We Miss Him Most. The Quarantine Around Death Makes It Feel Unlucky And Wrong--a Freakish Incursion--and The Dead, Thus Quarantined, Come To Seem More Dead Than They Already Are.... Borrowing From The Dead Is A Way Of Keeping Them Engaged In Life's Daily Transactions--in Other Words, Alive.

Because You Can't Write Habitually And Well All The Time, You Have To Be Willing To Write Badly. That's How You Get The Regularity That Enables You To Be Present For The Good Stuff.