The Truth Of Some Promises

I’m A Man Who Falls In Love So Easily, And With Such Reckless Lack Of Consideration For The Consequences Of My Actions, That From The Very First Instant Of Entering Into A Marriage I Become, Almost By Definition, An Adulterer.

When I First Decided I Wanted To Be A Writer, When I Was 10, 11 Years Old, The Books That I Loved Obviously And Openly Fit That Description: They Came With Maps And Glossaries And Timelines - Books Like Lord Of The Rings, Dune, The Chronicles Of Narnia. I Imagined That's What Being A Writer Was: You Invented A World, And You Did It In A Very Detailed Way, And You Told Stories That Were Set In That World.

A Hope Fulfilled Is Already Half A Disappointment.

I Do Have A Collection Of Mid-century, Small-press Science Fiction And Fantasy Hardcovers That Is My Most Focused And Dedicated Collection. Everything Else I Tend More To Acquire Or Amass Than Collect. I Have Vinyl Records I Listen To All The Time When I Work. But I Don’t Collect Records. I Just Buy Records Where The Price Seems Right And It’s Music I Actually Listen To.

We Are Accustomed To Repeating The Cliché, And To Believing, That 'our Most Precious Resource Is Our Children.' But We Have Plenty Of Children To Go Around, God Knows, And As With Doritos, We Can Always Make More. The True Scarcity We Face Is Practicing Adults, Of People Who Know How Marginal, How Fragile, How Finite Their Lives And Their Stories And Their Ambitions Really Are But Who Find Value In This Knowledge, Even A Sense Of Strange Comfort, Because They Know Their Condition Is Universal, Is Shared.