There Are Bits Of The Literal Future

His Teeth Sang In Their Individual Sockets Like Tuning Forks, Each One Pitch-perfect And Clear As Ethanol.

Lost, So Small Amid That Dark, Hands Grown Cold, Body Image Fading Down Corridors Of Television Sky.

A Lot Of The Buildings [in Toronto] Around Yonge And Bloor Is The Architectural Equivalent Of Kipper Ties And 8" Collar Points. It's Ghastly And No Amount Of Street-level Retail Glitz Can Lift It.

I Think I'd Probably Tell You That It's Easier To Desire And Pursue The Attention Of Tens Of Millions Of Total Strangers Than It Is To Accept The Love And Loyalty Of The People Closest To Us.

I Don't Begin A Novel With A Shopping List - The Novel Becomes My Shopping List As I Write It.