Copies have been dethroned; the economic model built on them is collapsing. In a regime of superabundant free copies, copies are no longer the basis of wealth. Now relationships, links, connections, and sharing are. Value has shifted away from a copy toward the many ways to recall, annotate, personalize, edit, authenticate, display, mark, transfer, and engage a work. Art is a conversation, not a patent office. The citation of sources belongs to the realms of journalism and scholarship, not art. Reality can’t be copyrighted.

The absence of plot leaves the reader room to think about other things.

You're one of 6.5 billion people now on the planet, and 99.9 percent of your genes are the same as everyone else's.

Story seems to say that everything happens for a reason and I want to say, No, it doesn’t.

With relatively few exceptions, the novel sacrifices too much, for me, on the altar of plot.

I don’t know what’s the matter with me, why I’m so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.

My medium is prose, not the novel.