For Me, Music Is Sort

Insomnia Is A Variant Of Tourette's--the Waking Brain Races, Sampling The World After The World Has Turned Away, Touching It Everywhere, Refusing To Settle, To Join The Collective Nod. The Insomniac Brain Is A Sort Of Conspiracy Theorist As Well, Believing Too Much In Its Own Paranoiac Importance--as Though If It Were To Blink, Then Doze, The World Might Be Overrun By Some Encroaching Calamity, Which Its Obsessive Musings Are Somehow Fending Off.

I've Never Related To The Work Geek At All-it Sounds Much More Horrible Than Nerd. Like A Freak Biting A Chicken's Head Off In A Sideshow.

I Don't Know Why The World Has Changed So Much That Writers Are Now Expected To Appear In Public And Talk About Their Work. It's Something I Find Very Difficult. And Yet, One Does Have Some Sense Of Responsibility Towards One's Publishers, To The People Trying To Sell The Book.

It Wasn't For Children, Seventh Grade. You Could Read The Stress Of Even Entering The Building In The Postures Of The Teachers, The Security Guards. Nobody Could Relax In Such A Racial And Hormonal Disaster Area.

You Don’t Have The Slightest Idea Of What It Means To Write A Scene And A Character In The English Language, With Images And Words Chock Full Of Received Meaning.