Their House Had Real Hardcover Books In

A Lot Of People Don't Know What They Want, You Know, Or They're Just Kind Of Vague About It.

It Makes Me Wonder Sometimes. Remember A Couple Years Ago, When Mexicans Went On Strike? It Was Talked About A Little Bit But Not That Much. But Some Old White People, And There Aren't Even That Many, They Put Bonnets On, And Then They Control The News.

I Like The Trail That The Internet Created. For Example, I Was Watching One Of Those Douglas Sirk Movies, And I Noticed That Rock Hudson Towered Over Everyone, And I Typed In "how Tall Was" And I Saw "how Tall Was Jesus," And I'm Like, "sure," And Half An Hour Later You're Somewhere You Didn't Expect To Be. It Doesn't Work That Same Way In Books, Does It? Even If You Have An Encyclopedia, The Trail Isn't That Crazy. I Like That Aspect Of It.

I Was First Published In The Newspaper Put Out By School Of The Art Institute Of Chicago, Where I Was A Student. I Wince To Read That Story Nowadays, But I Published It With An Odd Photo I'd Found In A Junk Shop, And At Least I Still Like The Picture. I Had A Few Things In The School Paper, And Then I Got Published In A Small Literary Magazine. I Hoped I Would One Day Get Published In The New Yorker, But I Never Allowed Myself To Actually Believe It. Getting Published Is One Of Those Things That Feels Just As Good As You'd Hoped It Would.

At The End Of A Miserable Day, Instead Of Grieving My Virtual Nothing, I Can Always Look At My Loaded Wastepaper Basket And Tell Myself That If I Failed, At Least I Took A Few Trees Down With Me.