The Reason It's Hard For Me To

No One I Interact With - Except Maybe For Family And Strangers At The Russian Baths And Other Weird Places I May Go To - Is Just Friends Or Lovers With Me: They Also Know Something Of My Writing And This Distorts Their Take On Me.

After My First Novel, My Mother Said To Me, 'why Don't You Make Your Writing More Funny? You're So Funny In Person.' Because My First Novel Was Rather Dark. And I Don't Know, But Something About What She Said Was True. 'yes, Why Don't I?' Maybe I Was Afraid To Be Funny In The Writing. But Since Then, Seven Books Later, Almost Everything I've Done Has A Comedic Edge To It.

As A Child, I Wanted To Be An Athlete, A Professional Tennis Player Or Something Like That.

I Have Very Few Hobbies. In Fact, I Have No Hobbies.

Nothing Wrong With Changing Your Mind. That's A Very Unwaffling Thing To Say: "nothing Wrong..." Who Am I To Say That There's Nothing Wrong With It? Maybe Something Is Wrong With Changing Your Mind. Anyway, Love Is Very, Very Difficult. I Love. But Probably Because I Hate Myself On Some Deep, Sick Level, It Makes Loving Difficult. But I Do Try.