A writers life is, in a nutshell, arduous. The journey, however, wholly fulfilling. Take time to celebrate life. To embrace love. To relish those small victories for they are indeed rare for a storyteller. To wholeheartedly pursue your happiness unapologetically. In the end, both you and your literature, in an unbroken rhythm, will be seamlessly integrated.

You'll never know if you've created or will create that one story worth a million dollars. Keep writing!

I'm finally coming to terms with the unalloyed insanity of being a writer. Now that's coming out.

A true writer recognizes the insanity in themselves.

We're all in a steel cage, jousting for literary relevance among a sea of true talent. Our way out of this Thunderdome is not through any given contract by any given publisher. Our way out, the key needed to escape said cage is in our sui generis ability to tell the shit out of a story. Go forward, woke.

Why do I write fact-based fiction? With secrecy so inscrutable, I'm looking to needle someone about someone or something.

Only those who’re high on the herb can truly appreciate Marley. Lean back, enjoy life and really listen to him. '…every little thing gonna be alright…

Writing to me is like hitting the herb. No problems, Mon. No worries.

Pretty trippy writing in a fog. I wrote some of the most beautiful shit I had ever written in my life, but you or I will never know what I wrote. I had no typewriter ribbon in my typewriter. Pretty trippy writing in a fog.