Write Relentlessly, Until You Find Your Voice.

I Am A Person Who Feels Guilty For Crimes I Have Not Committed, Or Have Not Committed In Years. The Police Search The Train Station For A Serial Rapist And I Cover My Face With A Newspaper, Wondering If Maybe I Did It In My Sleep. The Last Thing I Stole Was An Eight-track Tape, But To This Day I'm Unable To Enter A Store Without Feeling Like A Shoplifter. It's All The Anxiety With None Of The Free Stuff.

The Things I've Bought From Strangers In The Dark Would Curl Your Hair.

They Were Nothing Like The French People I Had Imagined. If Anything, They Were Too Kind, Too Generous And Too Knowledgable In The Fields Of Plumbing And Electricity.

I Meet People At Book Signings. My Record Now, For Signing, Is Ten And A Half Hours In One Sitting.

My Sister Tiffany Told Me Years Ago, 'you Can Never Write About Me.' Then She Called Six Months Ago And Said She Wanted To Be In A Story. She Was Worried People Thought I Didn't Like Her.