Love And Despair Go Hand In Hand.

I Thought I Was Writing For A Fairly Hip, Intelligent Crowd; I Just Thought There Were More Of Them Out There. But They're Not. They're Not Out There Waiting. They're Not Gonna Use Their Intelligence On Your Book.

My Stories Do Have Plot. They're Not Just Scattered Language; They're Controlled, Toward An End.

Love And Despair Go Hand In Hand.

Randomness I Love. And I Still Love Just A Holler Right In The Middle Of An Ongoing Narrative. Pain Or Joy, Ecstasy.

Professional Southerners Sicken Me.