I Don't Care If I'm A Fish,

Make A List Of All The Lovers You've Ever Had. Warren Lasher Ed "rubberhead" Catapano Charles Deats Or Keats Alfonse Tuck It In Your Pocket. Leave It Lying Around, Conspicuously. Somehow You Lose It. Make "mislaid" Jokes To Yourself. Make Another List.

Editing Is Just Ongoing. I Don't Count Drafts, Or Know What Would Fully Constitute A Draft. But I Try To Fix As I Go. And There's Always More To Fix.

There Seemed Nothing So True As A Yellow Tree.

I Don't Think Of Any Sentence As A "one-liner", But I Do Pay Attention To How People Actually Speak When They Are Being Funny. Rhythm Is Key.

The People In This House, I Felt, And I Included Myself, Were Like Characters Each From A Different Grim And Gruesome Fairy Tale. None Of Us Was In The Same Story. We Were All Grotesques, And Self-riveted, But In Separate Narratives, And So Our Interactions Seemed Weird And Richly Meaningless, Like The Characters In A Tennessee Williams Play, With Their Bursting Unimportant, But Spell-bindingly Mad Speeches.