I See All. I Hear All. I

There In The Midst Of The Amazon Jungle, Simon Haskell Has Cobbled Up For Himself A Replica Of An Art Deco Salon.

Uh, Excuse Me, Sir, I, Uh, Don't Known How To Uh, To Uh, Tell You This, But You Were Three Minutes Late. The Schedule Is A Little, Uh, Bit Off." He Grinned Sheepishly. "that's Ridiculous!" Murmured The Ticktockman Behind His Mask. "check Your Watch." And Then He Went Into His Office, Going Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee.

Don't Start An Argument With Somebody Who Has A Microphone When You Don't. They'll Make You Look Like Chopped Liver.

The Trap Into Which All Writers Have, Will, Or Should Fall Into, Of Writing The Great American Watchamacallit, Is Such An Uncluttered And Inviting One That From Time To Time I'm Sure Even The Greatest Have To Pull Themselves Up Short By The Shift Key To Remind Themselves That It Is Story First That They Should Write.

Y Is For Yggdrasil. The Legendary Nordic Ash Tree With Its Three Roots Extending Into The Lands Of Mortals, Giants, And Niflheim, The Land Of Mist, Grows In Wisconsin. Legend Has It That When The Tree Falls, The Universe Will Fall. Next Wednesday, The State Highway Commission Comes Through That Empty Pasture With A Freeway.