Remember That The Truth Is In The

I've Taken Off Two Months, Three Months At A Time, And, By The End, I Get Really Squirrelly. My Night Life, My Dream Life, Gets Extremely Populated And Crazed.

I'm A Salami Writer. I Try To Write Good Salami, But Salami Is Salami.

Zombies Are The New Vampire.

Death Was No Less A Miracle Than Birth.

What If There Were No Grownups? Suppose The Whole Idea Of Grownups Was An Illusion? What If Their Money Was Really Just Playground Marbles, Their Business Deals No More Than Baseball-card Trades, Their Wars Only Games Of Guns In The Park? What If They Were All Still Snotty-nosed Kids Inside Their Suits And Dresses? Christ, That Couldn't Be, Could It? It Was Too Horrible To Think About.