Like The Trains, She's Never On Time

There Would Be No Sherlock Holmes If It Were Not For Serial Publication.

The Road To Death Is A Lonely Highway, And Longer Than It Apears, Even When It Leads Straight Down From The Scaffold, By Way Of A Rope; And It's A Dark Road, With Never Any Moon Shining On It, To Light Your Way.

You're Sad Because You're Sad. It's Psychic. It's The Age. It's Chemical. Go See A Shrink Or Take A Pill, Or Hug Your Sadness Like An Eyeless Doll You Need To Sleep. Well, All Children Are Sad But Some Get Over It. Count Your Blessings. Better Than That, Buy A Hat. Buy A Coat Or A Pet. Take Up Dancing To Forget.

The Future Of Narrative? Built In, Part Of The Human Template. Not Going Away.

Genres Aren't Closed Boxes. Stuff Flows Back And Forth Across The Borders All The Time.