Everyone is interesting except the narrator in a first-person story.

Well-lit streets discourage sin, but don't overdo it.

Everyone is interesting except the narrator in a first-person story.

You have to beat your own problematic imagination to discover what it is you're saying and how to say it and move forward into the unknown.

Roscoe was spiritually illegal, a bootlegger of the soul, a mythic creature made of words and wit and wild deeds and boundless memory.

There's only a short walk from the hallelujah to the hoot.

Aspiring writers should read the entire canon of literature that precedes them, back to the Greeks, up to the current issue of The Paris Review.