#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank… be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a light somewhere.
take a writer away from his typewr… and all you have left is the sickness which started him
We ran up the long ramp. I was ca… At the escalator Tammie saw the f… “Please,” I said, “we only have f… “I want Dancy to have the money.” “All right.”
saw him sitting in a lobby chair in the Patrick Hotel dreaming of flying fish and he said “hello friend you’re looking good.
I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....
Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...
great writer remains in bed shades down doesn’t want to see anyone doesn’t want to write anymore doesn’t want to try anymore;
Then I was called down to personnel at the old Federal Build– ing. They let me sit the usual 45 minutes or hour and one half. The man walked me back to a desk. There sat this woman. She...
she sits on the floor going through a cardboard box reading me love letters I have wri… while her 4 year old daughter lies… wrapped in a pink blanket and
I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh,
Sara was preparing the turkey dressing and I sat in the kitchen talking to her. We were both sipping white wine. The phone rang. I went and got it. It was Debra. “I just wanted to wish ...
there waas a rock-and-mud slide on the Pacific Coast Highway and… detour and they directed us up int… and traffic was slow and it was ho… we were lost.
Frank liked airplanes. He lent me all his pulp magazines about World War 1. The best was Flying Aces. The dog-fights were great, the Spads and the Fokkers mixing it. I read all the stor...
Again I was on a new route. The Stone always put me on hard routes, but now and then, due to the circumstances of things, he was forced to place me on one less murderous. Route 511 was ...
I have a saying, “the tough ones a… back.” but Vera was kinder than most, and so I was surprised when she arrived that night