We knew our days were numbered. We had fouled up our lives and we were getting ready for a shake-up.

My circumstances of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction necessitated the short story form.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

We knew our days were numbered. We had fouled up our lives and we were getting ready for a shake-up.

Fiction shows the external effects of internal conditions. Be aware of the tension between internal and external movement.

Art doesn't have to do anything. It just has to be there for the fierce pleasure we take in doing it.

Don’t complain, don’t explain.