Kids Don’t Do What Their

In Real Life, Coincidences Happen All The Time. In Novels, They Are Leapt Upon With Fury.

A Dancer On Break Approached Him. She Smiled. Each Tooth Was Angled In A Different Direction, As If Her Mouth Were The Masterwork Of A Mad Orthodontist. "hi," She Said. "hi." "you're Really Cute." "i Don't Have Any Money." She Spun And Walked Away. Ah, Romance.

Writing My First Book, I Think In Hindsight I Went Into It Saying, 'it's Gonna Sell.' I Was Earning Enough To Scrape By Sometime Around A Book Or Two Before 'tell No One.' I Moved Up From $50,000 To $75,000, Then $150,000 For Each Book. I Had Never Thought I Would Be Doing Anything Else. I Had Enough Encouragement.

I Would Never Write A Memoir, Because It Would Be Too Boring.

An Hour Before His World Exploded Like A Ripe Tomato Under A Stiletto Heel, Myron Bit Into A Fresh Pastry That Tasted Suspiciously Like Urinal Cake.