I Have To Return Some Videotapes

I Like The Idea Of A Writer Being Haunted By His Own Creation, Especially If The Writer Resents The Way The Character Defines Him.

The Seals Stupidly Dive Off Rocks Into Swirling Black Water, Barking Mindlessly. The Zookeepers Feed Them Dead Fish. A Crowd Gathers Around The Tank, Mostly Adults, A Few Accompanied By Children. On The Seals' Tank A Plaque Warns: Coins Can Kill——if Swallowed, Coins Can Lodge In An Animal's Stomach And Cause Ulcers, Infections And Death. Do Not Throw Coins In The Pool. So What Do I Do? Toss A Handful Of Change Into The Tank When None Of The Zookeepers Are Watching. It's Not The Seals I Hate——it's The Audience's Enjoyment Of Them That Bothers Me.

Adjust My Dreams For Me.

...if You're Alone Nothing Bad Can Happen To You.

You Don't Market-research A Novel; You Really Are Writing It For Yourself. It's A Hobby, In Many Ways. The Problem Becomes What You Do When You're Confronted By Criticism. You Just Don't Listen To It.