I Lost An Arm On My Last

The Child In Each Of Us Knows Paradise. Paradise Is Home. Home As It Was Or Home As It Should Have Been. Paradise Is One's Own Place, One's Own People, One's Own World, Knowing And Known, Perhaps Even Loving And Loved. Yet Every Child Is Cast From Paradise- Into Growth And New Community, Into Vast, Ongoing Change.

I'm Me, And I'm Here, And I'm Writing.

But My Problem With Fantasy, And Horror, And Related Genres, Is That Sometimes The Problems Are Illogical.

On The Other Hand, I Was Very Much Interested In The Way People Behaved, The Human Dance, How They Seemed To Move Around Each Other. I Wanted To Play Around With That.

I Think People Really Need To Think What It's Like To Have All Of Society Arrayed Against You.