Fear never shows up and the party ends early.

Writing a novel is not method acting and I find it easy to step out of it at cocktail hour.

Rock 'n' roll. Deal with it.

When the going gets tough, the tough go drinking.

She sits before me, sullen but hopeful, characterless, about to dissolve into tears. I squeeze her hand back, moved, no, touched by her ignorance of evil. She has one more test to pass. Do you own a briefcase?” I ask her, swallowing.

Eventually everyone has to hit the dark side of life - Someone doesn't like you, someone doesn't like your work, someone doesn't love you back... people die. What we have is a generation who are super-confident and super-positive about things, but when the least bit of darkness enters their lives, they're paralyzed.

Disintegration---I'm taking it in stride.