The Tricky Thing About Being A Writer,

I Saw That My Best Work Was My Most Personal Work, Which Is Odd, Because My Fiction Is Very Far Afield And Has Nothing To Do With My Life.

I Don't Write For An Audience, I Don't Think Whether My Book Will Sell, I Don't Sell It Before I Finish Writing It.

The Swedish He Knew Was Mostly From Bergman Films. He Had Learned It As A College Student, Matching The Subtitles To The Sounds. In Swedish, He Could Only Converse On The Darkest Of Subjects.

I Could Teach. I Could Wait Tables. I Could Cook In A Restaurant. Food And Teaching Were The Two Skills I Had.

I Was Starting To Wonder If I Was Ready To Be A Writer, Not Someone Who Won Prizes, Got Published And Was Given The Time And Space To Work, But Someone Who Wrote As A Course Of Life. Maybe Writing Wouldn't Have Any Rewards. Maybe The Salvation I Would Gain Through Work Would Only Be Emotional And Intellectual. Wouldn't That Be Enough, To Be A Waitress Who Found An Hour Or Two Hidden In Every Day To Write?