To be an artist, you have to nurture the things that most people discard.
Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is richness of self.
We can destroy what we have written, but we cannot unwrite it.
Here’s a touching recent experience. At Comic Con, on the last day, as things were being hauled away, I saw a young woman sitting on the floor in the crowded lobby of the Marriott Hotel. She was head-down over a paperback, and it reminded me of my entire youth spent reading like that. Books were like a fire exit when shit got too intense, and seeing her made me want to write even wilder, more engaging stuff.
She broke my heart because she could’ve been me forty years ago. That said, my new favorite character is a withered hag of a sex witch called ‘Baba Grey-Beard’ in the next book, ‘Beautiful You.’ I want to create characters who can distract you from even the worst real-life junk.