Silly Humans. Banging On A Tub To

Virginia Woolf's Great Novel, 'mrs. Dalloway,' Is The First Great Book I Ever Read. I Read It Almost By Accident When I Was In High School, When I Was 15 Years Old.

Any Other Vexations To Report?" He Asks. "i Love The Word 'vexations.'" "it's The 'x.' Nice To Jump Off A 'v' And Bite Into An 'x' Like That." "just The Usual Ones," She Says. "how Was The Weekend?" "vexing. Not Really, I Just Wanted To Say It. You?

I Feel Like There's Something Terrible And Wonderful And Amazing That's Just Beyond My Grasp. I Have Dreams About It. I Do Dream, By The Way. It Hovers Over Me At Odd Moments. And Then It's Gone. I Feel Like I'm Always On The Brink Of Something That Never Arrives. I Want To Either Have It Or Be Free Of It.

Accept That, Like Many Men, You Have A Streak Of The Homoerotic In You. Why Would You, Why Would Anyone, Want To Be That Straight?

I Seem To Produce A Novel Approximately Once Every Three Years.