Writing A Novel Is One Of Those

Deep Assignments Run Through All Our Lives; There Are No Coincidences.

If Their Work Is Satisfying People Don't Need Leisure In The Old-fashioned Sense. No One Ever Asks What Newton Or Darwin Did To Relax, Or How Bach Spent His Weekends. At Eden-olympia Work Is The Ultimate Play, And Play The Ultimate Work.

So He Left The Lagoon And Entered The Jungle Again, Within A Few Days Was Completely Lost, Following The Lagoons Southward Through The Increasing Rain And Heat, Attacked By Alligators And Giant Bats, A Second Adam Searching For The Forgotten Paradises Of The Reborn Sun.

We Live In A World Ruled By Fictions Of Every Kind - Mass Merchandising, Advertising, Politics Conducted As A Branch Of Advertising, The Instant Translation Of Science And Technology Into Popular Imagery, The Increasing Blurring And Intermingling Of Identities Within The Realm Of Consumer Goods, The Preempting Of Any Free Or Original Imaginative Response To Experience By The Television Screen. We Live Inside An Enormous Novel.

Most Writers Flinch At The Thought Of Being Completely Honest About Themselves. So Absolute Honesty Is What Marks The True Modern.