I don't eat fast food often, but I love tacos. I could write prophetically about how perfect the taco is.
I love art and I think I was destined to end up in some aspect of the arts.
Mistakes quickly pile up and coalesce into a reputation, and a reputation is hard to shake.
I started to write a series of fantasy novels when I was eleven. I have never taken anything artistic as seriously; since then, writing has felt like an attempt to get back there, to my bedroom, my maps, those races and languages and runes.
Every once in awhile, find a spot of shade, sit down on the grass or dirt, and ask yourself this question: “Do I respect myself?” A corollary to this question: “Do I respect the work I’m doing?” If the answer to the latter question is NO, then the answer to the former question will probably be NO too. If this is the case, wait a few weeks, then ask yourself the same two questions. If the answers are still NO, quit.
Growing up, my mom would watch 'Notting Hill' a lot. She loves Hugh Grant.
I would sleep 12 hours a day if I could.
Books woke me up. Books are my favorite man-made objects. I fetishize their design, smell, feel. And that they can contain such burning, complex communications is a miracle to me.
Art is the most benign cultural practice, and yet art has an upper bound of personal revelation that is so far away it is basically a horizon.
With writing and publishing, my only aim is to live in the aesthetic pleasure dome.
It's harder to make money when you're not a machine in a massive apparatus designed only to make money, but artists will figure it out.
