By Dawn He Had Surrendered, Gratefully, To

To Say She Was My Girlfriend Was Absurd: No One The Wrong Side Of Thirty Has A Girlfriend… I Suppose I Ought To Have Realize It’s Ominous That Forty Thousand Years Of Human Language Had Failed To Produce A Word For Our Relationship.

Does A Name Stick Because It Suits A Man Or Does The Man, Unconsciously, Evolve Into His Name?

You Find Out What You Think By Talking To Yourself.

I Write As Well As I Can. I'm A Journalist At Heart, So It's The Story That Matters.

It Is Perfectly Legitimate To Write Novels Which Are Essentially Prose Poems, But In The End, I Think, A Novel Is Like A Car, And If You Buy A Car And Grow Flowers In It, You're Forgetting That The Car Is Designed To Take You Somewhere Else.