It Didn't Matter That I Wore Clothes

When I Sit Down To Write, I Don't Think About Writing About An Idea Or A Given Message. I Just Try To Write A Story Which Is Hard Enough.

Isolation Offered Its Own Form Of Companionship: The Reliable Silence Of Her Rooms, The Steadfast Tranquility Of The Evenings. The Promise That She Would Find Things Where She Put Them, That There Would Be No Interruption, No Surprise. It Greeted Her At The End Of Each Day And Lay Still With Her At Night.

I Approach Writing Stories As A Recorder. I Think Of My Role As Some Kind Of Reporting Device - Recording And Projecting.

It Interests Me To Imagine Characters Shifting From One Situation And One Location To Another For Whatever The Circumstances May Be.

You Are Still Young, Free.. Do Yourself A Favor. Before It's Too Late, Without Thinking Too Much About It First, Pack A Pillow And A Blanket And See As Much Of The World As You Can. You Will Not Regret It. One Day It Will Be Too Late.