I wish I had a typical workday. I struggle to get up at seven and almost always fail. I just try to get to my office as soon as I can, but it's always later than I would like.

I tend to write first thing, and then do my drawing later. I like to draw at night. But often I go for long stretches without drawing, because I'm trying to figure out what I'm writing.

Watching everyone root through their psyche, it just delights me. Especially R. Crumb's stuff.

She has given me a way out.

It was a vicious cycle, though. The more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew.

What would happen if we spoke the truth?

You can't live and write at the same time.