Momentum, in literary mosaic, derives not from narrative but from the subtle, progressive buildup of thematic resonances.

I'm wonderfully self-lacerating, probably to my character's detriment. I'm terribly open to critique.

I'm not interested in collage as the refuge of the composition-ally disabled. I'm interested in collage as (to be honest) an evolution beyond narrative.

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

The beauty of reality-based art - art underwritten by reality hunger - is that it's perfectly situated between life itself and (unattainable) "life as art".

Everything I write, I believe instinctively, is to some extent collage. Meaning, ultimately, is a matter of adjacent data.

A book should either allow us to escape existence or teach us how to endure it.