Please, God, Send Me Something To Adore.

What She Wants To Say Has To Do Not Only With Joy But With The Penetrating, Constant Fear That Is Joy's Other Half.

Language In Fiction Is Made Up Of Equal Parts Meaning And Music. The Sentences Should Have Rhythm And Cadence, They Should Engage And Delight The Inner Ear.

Any Other Vexations To Report?" He Asks. "i Love The Word 'vexations.'" "it's The 'x.' Nice To Jump Off A 'v' And Bite Into An 'x' Like That." "just The Usual Ones," She Says. "how Was The Weekend?" "vexing. Not Really, I Just Wanted To Say It. You?

I Love Movies, I Love Television, I Love Narratives Of All Kinds.

Perhaps, In The Extravagance Of Youth, We Give Away Our Devotions Easily And All But Arbitrarily, On The Mistaken Assumption That We’ll Always Have More To Give.