You are fiercely heterosexual and well-formed, and it's no one's business that you've shrunk your parents and keep them in a terranium, but you have a gatling gun for a mouth, and if that's a diary you're producing from your cleavage, I'm leaving.

I guess I can picture things once they're done - I just can't picture actually doing them.

It's in great joy that we grasp truth.

I'm in that very preliminary stage of wondering how exactly to "pressurize" the novel in some way I've never considered before.

I think I'm a shy, self-conscious person who thinks he's being looked at and tries to look okay. Not in a hottie, narcissistic way necessarily.

As far as what I do, my value as a writer is certainly not to try to recapitulate a 19th century form. Certain styles of narrative don't conform to my style of experiencing the world.

I can tell from about 20 yards away when someone has a manuscript for me. I can just tell - they have that look.