History is full of really good stories. That's the main reason I got into this racket: I want to make the argument that history is interesting.

There are two kinds of people in the world: the kind who alphabetize their record collections, and the kind who don't.

Radio is the playground of coincidence.

One night last summer, all the killers in my head assembled on a stage in Massachusetts to sing show tunes.

I probably am a cranky writer, but I am actually a fairly nice, normal person. Since I'm a grouchy writer, of course I have friends whose books are doing way better than mine.

Why is America the last best hope of Earth? What if it's Liechtenstein? Or, worse, Canada?

Owen is the most Hitchcockian preschooler I ever met. He's three. He knows maybe ninety word and one of them is 'crypt'?