It Would Be Rather Naive To Imagine

I Had Some Very, Very Fond Memories Of The People I Worked With And The Authors I Worked With - And I Won't Mention Any Names - But As I Have Been Traveling Through Rural Maine Over The Past Few Weeks, One Of My Favorite Things To Do Is To Go Into Bookstores On The Side Of Rural Routes And Paw Through The Old Copies Of Tom Clancy And Trevanian Books They Have In There For Weird Old 1970s Thrillers That I Haven't Read Yet.

Everyone Feels Like They Would Love To Be A Really Cool Bartender In A Really Cool Bar, But You're Still Surrounded By People Who Want To Destroy Themselves With Alcohol. When You Look At It That Way, It's Not That Much Fun.

The Very Idea That There Is No Truth, But Only The Filter Of Narrative Through Which Truth Is Invented Is Something I Learned At The Feet Of The Most Leftist Professors At Yale And Am Learning Again From Sarah Palin During The Vice Presidential Debate, And I Find That Very Disorienting.

It's Not A Secret Family Like I Have A Beautiful, Gorgeous Wife In Tokyo; I Have Another Mom And Dad. I'm The Kid And I Have Another Mom And Dad In Atwater Village, Los Angeles.

When You're Sitting Down And You're Blocked And You Just Start Writing And Something In Your Mind Just Clicks, You Start Seeing Connections And So On, You Really Do Feel Like You're Channeling Something Else.