I Came From An Anxious, Overly Intense

That’s What Death Did, It Treated You Like A Child, Like Everything You Had Ever Thought And Done And Cared About Was Just A Child’s Game, To Be Crumpled Up And Thrown Away When It Was Over. It Didn’t Matter. Death Didn’t Respect You. Death Thought You Were Bullshit, And It Wanted To Make Sure You Knew It.

And I'm Not As Young As I Once Was. At My Age, I Don't Have Time To Be Bored.

Nothing Is Wrong With You. You're Not Different. Everybody Feels As Bad As You Do: This Is Just What Writing A Novel Feels Like. To Write A Novel Is To Come In Contact With Raw, Primal Feelings, Hopes And Longings And Psychic Wounds, And Try To Make A Big Public Word-sculpture Out Of Them, And That Is A Crazy Hard Thing To Do.

One Already Feels Like An Anachronism, Writing Novels In The Age Of What-ever-this-is-the-age-of, But Touring To Promote Them Feels Doubly Anachronistic. The Marketplace Is Showing An Increasing Intolerance For The Time-honored Practice Of Printing Information On Paper And Shipping It Around The Country.

Being A Hero, The Man Had Observed, Is Largely A Matter Of Knowing One’s Cues.