There's No Shortage Of Material In Life.

It's Hard For Me To Think Of Writing A Novel, Because It Takes So Long.

I'm On The Verge Of A Total Breakdown. Sciatica. Taxes. Cars. Fleas, Possibly. It's An Absurd Existence.

I Am Part Of A Vast Generation Of People Who Perpetually Live As If They Just Graduated From College.

The Work Changes The Way Your Face Changes And Ages - It Just Does. Also, I Have Very Little Connection To Anything I've Written. I Move On. We All Move On

Something Has Happened Where You Almost Never Grow Up In America. Maybe It's The Greater Wealth.