It Is Strange How Fragile This Man-creature

Any Writer Who Knows What He's Doing Isn't Doing Very Much.

To Literary Critics A Book Is Assumed To Be Guilty Until It Proves Itself Innocent.

The Devil Lives In A Double-shot", Roman Explains Himself Obscurely. "i Got A Great Worm Inside. Gnaws And Gnaws. Every Day I Drown Him And Every Day He Gnaws. Help Me Drown The Worm, Fellas.

He Was Falling Between Glacial Walls, He Didn't Know How Anyone Could Fall So Far Away From Everyone Else In The World. So Far To Fall, So Cold All The Way, So Steep And Dark Between Those Morphine-coloured Walls.

Thinking Of Poe, Thinking Of Mark Twain And Vachel Lindsay, Thinking Of Jack London And Tom Wolfe, One Begins To Feel There Is Almost No Way Of Becoming A Creative Writer In America Without Being A Loser.