The Raising Of A Child

For Years I Feared The Opening Of Every Elevator, Half-convinced That From The Opened Doors Would Come A Bullet, For Me, Shot By A Man In A Tan Trenchcoat. I Have No Idea Why I Feared This, Expected It To Happen. I Even Knew How I Would React To This Bullet Coming From The Elevator Door, What Word I Would Say. That Word Was: Finally.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Utopia: We've Turned Into This Surveillance Society And Become A Race Of Spies, Where We Track Our Kids And We Track Our Spouses And We Track Our Friends. I Think Very Soon There Will Be An Obsolescence Of Trust, Because It's Much Easier To Access A Person's Location Than It Is To Ask - Or To Trust.

I'll Always Be Working On Five Things At Once, Usually With Those Documents Open At The Same Time Because If I Get Stuck Somewhere I'll Jump Over To Something Else. That's How My Head Has Always Worked.

Through The Small Tall Bathroom Window The December Yard Is Gray And Scratchy, The Tree Calligraphic.

Mcsweeney's As A Publishing Company Is Built On A Business Model That Only Works When We Sell Physical Books. So We Try To Put A Lot Of Effort Into The Design And Production Of The Book-as-object.