Well, As My Dad Would Say, It

How Could It Be That You Could Love Someone So Much And Keep It Secret From Yourself As You Woke Daily So Far From Home?

It's Something That I Know How To Do Because I Taught For A Very Long Time, So I Can Do It, And I Feel A Responsibility To Do It - For Instance, In This Situation, Where I'm Touring Specifically For This Period Of Time. But Most Writers Are Not Public People. There Are A Few Writers Out There Who Really Enjoy It And Are Good At It, And Can Both Work And Do That At The Same Time, But I'm Not One Of Those People.

She Didn't Even Have To Smile, And She Rarely Did Outside Her House--it Was The Eyes, Her Dancer's Carriage, The Way She Seemed To Deliberate Over The Smallest Movement Of Her Body.

I Mean, If I Went Into My Closet, I Could Find A Previous Draft And Try To Figure That Out, But It Takes A Long Time For Me To Find The Voice To Tell A Story In. I Was Working From Other Points Of View For A Couple Years There.

Well, As My Dad Would Say, It Means She’s Out Of This Shithole.