We Are Unusual And Tragic And Alive.

When I Was On The Bestseller List With The First Book, Everyone Who Knows Me Knows That Every Week It Continued To Be On The List Was A Very Dark Week For Me. Everyone Knows That All I Wanted Was To Be Off That List.

Humans Are Divided Between Those Who Can Still Look Through The Eyes Of Youth And Those Who Cannot. Though It Causes Me Frequent Pain, I Find It Very Easy To Place Myself In The Shoes Of Almost Any Boy, And Can Conjure My Own Youth With An Ease That Is Troublesome.

He Wanted To Fly In Lightweight Contraptions With Her.

I Had Grown Up As A Fan Of Studs Terkel. In Chicago He Sort Of Looms Large And Is Mentioned Often.

But The Grind Has Begun. The Windows Don’t Open, And Even The Availability Of Near-constant Jokes About Jews And Mormons Fails To Stem The Tide Of Frustration, Decay. We’ve Reached The End Of Pure Inspiration, And Are Now Somewhere Else, Something Implying Routine, Or Doing Something Because People Expect Us To Do It, Going Somewhere Each Day Because We Went There The Day Before, Saying Things Because We Have Said Them Before, And This Seems Like The Work Of A Different Sort Of Animal, Contrary To Our Plan, And This Is Very Very Bad.