In America, writers are afforded the freedom to express themselves in unlimited manners. Creative liberty is a privilege.
For eventually one gets over reality’s affront to one’s innocence. One grows accustomed to the melancholy fact that we all sell ourselves at one time or another, that whoring is the dirty little secret of our success as human beings.
Short stories are often treated as the poor cousins of novels.
Contemporary novels can have a fleeting existence within the current multiplication of medias and the technological rapidity with which art is delivered and consumed. A cultural lacuna has opened, one that needs arresting.
How complex, untrustworthy, and important our stories are. We will never tell you the true story of our lives.
Sometimes we need fellow radicals to remind us of what we, as writers, have set out to proclaim.
