As A Memoirist, I Strive For Veracity.

I Don't Think I Look Like The Pope's Favorite Catholic - At Least Not Under Close Scrutiny.

If Dysfunction Means That A Family Doesn't Work, Then Every Family Ambles Into Some Arena In Which That Happens, Where Relationships Get Strained Or Even Break Down Entirely. We Fail Each Other Or Disappoint Each Other. That Goes For Parents, Siblings, Kids, Marriage Partners - The Whole Enchilada.

No Road Offers More Mystery Than That First One You Mount From The Town You Were Born To, The First Time You Mount It Of Your Own Volition, On A Trip Funded By Your Own Coffee Tin Of Wrinkled Up Dollars - Bills You've Saved And Scrounged For, Worked The All-night Switchboard For, Missed The Rolling Stones For, Sold Fragrant Pot With Smashed Flowers Going Brown Inside Twist-tie Plastic Baggies For. In Fact, To Disembark From Your Origins, You've Done Everything You Can Think To Scrounge Money Save Selling Your Spanking Young Pussy.

Im Always Terrified When Im Writing.

I Do Have A Really Good Memory. I Mean, Like, I Can Remember All The Phone Numbers Of Everybody On The Street I Grew Up On.