I Can't Bear The Silent Ringing In

I've Just Finished Reading Reality Hunger And I'm Lit Up By It-astonished, Intoxicated, Ecstatic, Overwhelmed. . . . It Really Is An Urgent Book: A Piece Of Art-making Itself, A Sublime, Exciting, Outrageous, Visionary Volume.

There Were Days When No Kid Came Out Of His House Without Looking Around. The Week After Halloween Had A Quality Both Hungover And Ominous, The Light Pitched, The Sky Smashed Against The Rooftops.

I'm Gregarious With Writers And Never With Manuscripts . . . I [like To] Create The Illusion Of Seamless Perfection, So I Alone Know The Flawed Homely Process Along The Way.

I Prefer Old Books And Find Them More Relevant. I Dislike New Books. It's Like Drinking Wine That's Not Ready.

As A Child Growing Up In Pre-gentrification Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, I Went Everywhere By Bicycle. My Bike Was In Many Ways The Key To My Neighborhood, Which, At The Time, Was Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. This Was In The 60s And 70s, Before All The White People And Restaurants. I Really Can't Underscore Boldly Enough The Fact That I Grew Up In Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, Before It Was Gentrified. You Could Get Mugged!