Writing Never Came Naturally And I Still

Construed As Turf, Home Just Seems A Provisional Claim, A Designation You Make Upon A Place, Not One It Makes On You. A Certain Set Of Buildings, A Glimpsed, Smudged Window-view Across A Schoolyard, A Musty Aroma Sniffed Behind A Garage When You Were A Child, All Of Which Come Crowding In Upon Your Latter-day Senses -- Those Are Pungent Things And Vivid, Even Consoling. But To Me They Are Also Inert And Nostalgic And Unlikely To Connect You To The Real, To That Essence Art Can Sometimes Achieve, Which Is Permanence.

I Want Saner Gun Laws. I Think All These Automatic Weapons Should Be Banned, Big Clips And Handguns Should Be Banned. As Far As I'm Concerned, Shotguns And Hunting Weapons Are All That We Should Allow In America.

Maybe I'm A Serial Regional Writer. First Here, Then There, Across The Map.

I Had A Tourette's Period. And Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Things Would Get In My Brain That I Couldn't Get Out Of My Brain.

In Order To Write Novels For A Living - It's Not Pathological, But I Do Think And Worry And Brood And Fidget About Stuff That I'm Working On.