...and There Was Nothing To Do Except

As To The Number Of Novels I've Abandoned... I Shudder To Think. I Have Thrown Away Five Completed Novels, And That's A Gruesome Enough Figure. But Not Necessarily A Waste Of Effort.

The One Thing You Have To Do If You Write A Book Is Put Yourself In Someone Else's Shoes. The Reader's Shoes. You've Got To Entertain Them.

At Teenage Parties He Was Always Wandering Into The Garden, Sitting On A Bench In The Dark . . . Staring Up At The Constellations And Pondering All Those Big Questions About The Existence Of God And The Nature Of Evil And The Mystery Of Death, Questions Which Seemed More Important Than Anything Else In The Would Until A Few Years Passed And Some Real Questions Had Been Dumped Into Your Lap, Like How To Earn A Living, And Why People Fell In And Out Of Love, And How Long You Could Carry On Smoking And Then Give Up Without Getting Lung Cancer.

Every Life Is Narrow. Our Only Escape Is Not To Run Away, But To Learn To Love The People We Are And The World In Which We Find Ourselves.

..and Only Sticks And Stones Can Break My Bones.