What did I do to make Mommy leave?โ โYou didnโt do anything. This isnโt your fault.โ โThen why?โ sheโd wailed. โI donโt know,โ her daddy had said, and he looked so sad. โIt isnโt fair!โ โNo, it isnโt, baby. Not by a mile. The worldโs only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your own little cave, thatโs one less fighter on the side of fair.
Libba BrayYouโve been assigned an identity since birth. Then you spend the rest of your life walking around in it to see if it really fits. You try on all these different selves and abandon just as many. But really itโs about dismantling all that false armor, getting down to whatโs real. -Going Bovine
Libba BrayAs a kid, I imagined lots of different scenarios for my life. I would be an astronaut. Maybe a cartoonist. A famous explorer or rock star. Never once did I see myself standing under the window of a house belonging to some druggie named Carbine, waiting for his yard gnome to steal his stash so I could get a cab back to a cheap motel where my friend, a neurotic, death-obsessed dwarf, was waiting for me so we could get on the road to an undefined place and a mysterious Dr. X, who would cure me of mad cow disease and stop a band of dark energy from destroying the universe.
Libba Bray