What Is Important Is The Story. Because

There's A Point At Which Writing A Book, Or A Long Article, Begins To Feel Like Mental Labor, And It's Too Painful To Connect In The World In Any Real Way Mid-process. The Only Way To Survive Is To Write Until It Is All Said And Done.

Until I Read Anne Frank's Diary, I Had Found Books A Literal Escape From What Could Be The Harsh Reality Around Me. After I Read The Diary, I Had A Fresh Way Of Viewing The Both Literature And The World. From Then On, I Found I Was Impatient With Books That Were Not Honest Or That Were Trivial And Frivolous.

It's A Long Day's Drive Any Way You Look At It. With A Man Who Has Taken Your Sins - Real And Imagined - And Stitched Them Onto The Sackcloth Of His Own Soul, It Is Endless.

People Who Disagree With His Excellency, The President For Life And 'chief Of Chiefs,' Are Frequently Found To Be The Victims Of Car Crashes (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets); Or Dead In Their Beds Of Heart Attacks (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets); Or The Recipients Of Some Not-quite-fresh Seafood (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets).

You Can't Rewind War. It Spools On, And On, And On, Looping And Jumping, Distorted And Cracked With Age, And The Stories Contract Until Only The Nuggets Of Hatred Remain And No One Can Even Remember, Or Imagine, Why The War Was Organized In The First Place.