I'm Interested In Where We Are, Where

Then I Fell In Love And Everything Went To Hell.

Nostalgia Is Something We Think Of As Fuzzy. But It's Pain. Pain Concerning The Past.

At The Very End Of A Book I Can Manage To Work For Longer Stretches, But Mostly, Making Stuff Up For Three Hours, That's Enough. I Can't Do Any More. At The End Of The Day I Might Tinker With My Morning's Work And Maybe Write Some Again. But I Think Three Hours Is Fine.

One Has To Be Able To Twist And Change And Distort Characters, Play With Them Like Clay, So Everything Fits Together. Real People Don't Permit You To Do That.

I Never Base Characters On Real People. There Are People Who Do That But I Really Don't Know How To Do It.