I Think About Old Nick Carrying Me

So Much As I Enjoy Big Novels Of Epic Sweep, I Often Find, Say, If They Follow Several Generations, By The Third Generation, I'm Not Caring About The People Anymore.

I Say "on Principle" [regarding 'lesbian Writer'] Because Whenever You Get One Of Your Minority Labels Applied, Like "irish Writer," "canadian Writer," "woman Writer," "lesbian Writer" - Any Of Those Categories - You Always Slightly Wince Because You're Afraid That People Will Think That Means You're Only Going To Write About Canada Or Ireland, You Know.

Nowadays, 'invisibility' Was Supposed To Be The Big Problem, But The Way I Saw It Was, All That Mattered Was To Be Visible To Yourself.

There Are Some Tales Not For Telling, Whether Because They Are Too Long, Too Precious, Too Laughable, Too Painful, Too Easy To Need Telling Or Too Hard To Explain. After All, After Years And Travels My Secrets Are All I Have Left To Chew On In The Night.

This Is A Bad Story.” “sorry. I’m Really Sorry. I Shouldn’t Have Told You.” “no, You Should,” I Say. “but—” “i Don’t Want There To Be Bad Stories And Me Not Know Them.