You Don’t Have The Slightest Idea Of

Listen To Me. I’m Shy. I’m Not Stupid. I Can’t Meet People’s Eyes. I Don’t Know If You Understand What That’s Like. There’s A Whole World Going On Around Me, I’m Aware Of That. It’s Not Because I Don’t Want To Look At You, Lucinda. It’s That I Don’t Want To Be Seen.

Fantastic Writing In English Is Kind Of Disreputable, But Fantastic Writing In Translation Is The Summit.

I Don't Know Why The World Has Changed So Much That Writers Are Now Expected To Appear In Public And Talk About Their Work. It's Something I Find Very Difficult. And Yet, One Does Have Some Sense Of Responsibility Towards One's Publishers, To The People Trying To Sell The Book.

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!

My Heart And The Elevator, A Plummet Inside A Plummet.