To Write A Damn Good Thriller, You

Coming After All The Bullshit Related To A Million Little Pieces, Nobody Was Expecting Anything From Me. No Publisher, No Agent, No One. Just Me And The Book. It Was Great.

This Moment And This Chance, They Are The Same, And They Are Mine If I Choose Them,and I Do. I Want Them. Now And As Long As I Can Have Them They Are Both Precious And Fleeting And Gone In The Blink Of An Eye, Don't Waste Them. A Moment And An Opportunity And A Life, All In The Unseen Tick Of A Clock Holding Me Nowhere. My Heart Is Beating. The Walls Are Pale And Quiet. I Am Surviving.

L.a Is A Huge Place, Literally And Metaphorically. Its Beauty And Horror. Its Unconventional History. Its Draw And Allure. Its Diversity And Segregation.

I'm Tired Of Making People Sad And I'm Tired Of Disappointing Them And I'm Tired Of Seeing Them Break. I Have Seen This Too Many Times. He Will Be The Last.

We Did What Our People Do All The Time, We Told Ourselves Something We Did Was Right And We Found A Way To Justify It, Even Though We Knew It Was Wrong.