I'm Nothing. Nothing At All

Because The Chief Commodity A Writer Has To Sell Is His Courage. And If He Has None, He Is More Than A Coward. He Is A Sellout And A Fink And A Heretic, Because Writing Is A Holy Chore.

Like A Wind Crying Endlessly Through The Universe, Time Carries Away The Names And The Deeds Of Conquerors And Commoners Alike. And All That We Were, All That Remains, Is In The Memories Of Those Who Cared We Came This Way For A Brief Moment.

Thank Your Readers And The Critics Who Praise You, And Then Ignore Them. Write For The Most Intelligent, Wittiest, Wisest Audience In The Universe: Write To Please Yourself.

I Don't Know How You Perceive My Mission As A Writer, But For Me It Is Not A Responsibility To Reaffirm Your Concretized Myths And Provincial Prejudices. It Is Not My Job To Lull You With A False Sense Of The Rightness Of The Universe. This Wonderful And Terrible Occupation Of Recreating The World In A Different Way, Each Time Fresh And Strange, Is An Act Of Revolutionary Guerrilla Warfare. I Stir The Soup. I Inconvenience You. I Make Your Nose Run And Your Eyes Water.

Now Begin In The Middle, And Later Learn The Beginning; The End Will Take Care Of Itself.