I Have A Healthy Appetite For Solitude.

Lives Don't Divide Up Into Chapters. People Don't Just Talk, While Nothing's Going On In Their Head, And Then Respond. You Know, None Of These Things Actually Happen.

In Truth, Even If They Have An Imperfect Insight Into Their Own Methods, I Still Slightly Mistrust Writers Of Fiction Who Are Assured Literary Critics; It Makes Me Suspect That They Favour The Word Over The World It Should Describe. Such Scribes Fall Victim Too Easily To The Solecism Of Equating Style With Morality.

Many Of My Works Fall Into The Category Of "zeitgeist Novels." Yet I Hope That They Aren't Only Reportage, But Also Attempts To Convey The Sense Of The Present To The Future.

People Tend To Think Of Their Lives As Having A Dramatic Arc, Because They Read Too Much Fiction.

What More Chilling Indictment Of The Modern World Is There Than This: That The Condition Of The Smartphone User Is That Of A Dumb Animal. Moooo!