You Speak Of Destiny As If It

Well, I Have An Idea, Usually A Visual Image Of Some Sort. A Setting. A Particular, I Don't Know, Urban Scene, A Particular Time Of Day. Something That Grips My Imagination For Some Reason.

It’s Like Having To Make A Choice: A Blessing Or A Curse. The One Thing You Can’t Do Is Choose Neither.

The E-book Revolution Has Made It Very Easy To Pay Writers A Good Deal Less Than What Their Work Is Worth. I Do Strongly Believe That We Writers Ought To Hold Out For Much Better Royalties.

We Are All Subject To The Fates. But We Must Act As If We Are Not, Or Die Of Despair.

The Moment In The Account Of Adam And Eve In The Book Of Genesis Is When They Realize They're Naked And Try And Cover Themselves With Fig Leaves. That Seemed To Me A Perfect Allegory Of What Happened In The 20th Century With Regard To Literary Modernism. Literary Modernism Grew Out Of A Sense That, “oh My God! I'm Telling A Story! Oh, That Can't Be The Case, Because I'm A Clever Person. I'm A Literary Person! What Am I Going To Do To Distinguish Myself?...a Lot Of Modernism Does Seem To Come Out Of A Fear Of Being Thought An Ordinary Storyteller.