Pranking is a great way to indicate the underlying absurdities of the world.

Pranking exposes the truth that underneath this appearance of order is joy, laughter, and disorder.

I'm not sure we're presenting ourselves as real role models. I don't think literature has ever been a real place for role models.

We put authors on such a pedestal, and it's a moment that humanizes the whole thing, and lends an absurdity to what otherwise is a "please sit with your hands on your lap" kind of event.

Danger is the snack food of a true sleuth.

I read The Stinky Cheese Man as an adult. I missed that book when I was a kid. I grew up mostly with books bought at yard sales, picture books from the fifties to 1975, which is really a lucky thing.

I'd much rather have a book that a few people love intensely than a book that a lot of people like okay.