I had some very, very fond memories of the people I worked with and the authors I worked with - and I won't mention any names - but as I have been traveling through rural Maine over the past few weeks, one of my favorite things to do is to go into bookstores on the side of rural routes and paw through the old copies of Tom Clancy and Trevanian books they have in there for weird old 1970s thrillers that I haven't read yet.

John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald meet in hell and team up to assassinate Satan.

Generally speaking, I, like anyone else who does anything publicly, like it when people like what I do, and would like to hear as much.

As you know, the thing that I know the least about is the topic of sports.

You wouldn't want to live a life in which you are loved or approved by all people on Earth or even within your own geodetic dome full of your jumpsuited followers.

I'm not a particularly religious person, but that feeling of getting transmissions from someplace else, even if it's from your own consciousness, is very, very real. To me, at least.

I am not beautiful, so I don't know why I'm making myself ugly. But the mustache stays.