To Hell With Being Ashamed Of What

Every Serious Novel Is, Beyond Its Immediate Thematic Preoccupations, A Discussion Of The Craft, A Conquest Of The Form, A Conflict With Its Difficulties And A Pursuit Of Its Felicities And Beauty.

And The Mind That Has Conceived A Plan Of Living Must Never Lose Sight Of The Chaos Against Which That Pattern Was Conceived. That Goes For Societies As Well As For Individuals.

...and Yet I Am What They Think I Am.

I Was Looking For Myself And Asking Everyone Except Myself Questions Which I, And Only I, Could Answer.

It Took Me A Long Time And Much Painful Boomeranging Of My Expectations To Achieve A Realization Everyone Else Appears To Have Been Born With: That I Am Nobody But Myself.