There are so many talented young writers named Jonathan, with whom by comparison I suffer terribly.

As a child, I wanted to be an athlete, a professional tennis player or something like that.

I promote my own self-hatred.

Maybe my work isn't a cry for help. It may just be a baby's need to cry or a dog's need to bark. You know, barks that seem connected to phantom noises and cries that just come; though a baby's cries are usually efficient - something is bothering them. Anyway, I think giving money is a sign of love. If you truly want to help someone, a lot of times giving them money is the best thing you can do.

People don't expect too much from literature. They just want to know they're not alone with being confused.

I'm also not sure that I look up to others as knowing what the hell is going on, except maybe Andre Agassi, who, when I interviewed him, while covering the U.S. Open, seemed to know what was going on. My basic assumption is that we're all confused all the time. Some people do act more confident, though. Maybe they aren't confused. I am. I'm confused.

For me, the past is dead. Can't go back.