I voluntarily inflicted a certain level of insanity on myself.
I look at my father, who was in many ways an unhappy person, but who, not long before he got sick, said that the greatest source of satisfaction in his life had been going to work in the company of other workers.
When I finally gave up any hope of doing anything representative of the American family, I actually seemed to have tapped into other people's weirdness in that way.
I hate that word dysfunction.
It seems to me self-evident that if you have a life, things happen in it, and certain things do change; certain things end. People you know die.
We may freak out globally, but we suffer locally.
I feel as if I'm clearly part of a trend among writers who take themselves seriously - and I confess to taking myself as seriously as the next writer.
I was a late child from my parents, so I grew up surrounded by people a lot older than me. I think even when I was 21, I felt like I was a 70-year-old man.
I was unwise enough to actually mention this in public a few times, and in fact to point out that there were two versions of the book now. One of them had somebody else's name on the cover, one had my name on the cover.
And Silence of the Lambs is a really smart book.
It's just a matter of writing the kind of book I enjoy reading. Something better be happening at the beginning, and then on every page after, or I get irritated.
If you're interested in how people behave, if you're interested in the way they talk about themselves, the way the conceive of themselves, it's very hard to ignore drugs nowadays, because that is so much part of the conversation.
But as far as being popular, yeah, I think Dave Barry is really funny.
I really enjoy doing both, but I didn't write nonfiction until 1994.
I was about 13, in some ways, when I wrote the first book. Approximately 18 when I wrote the second.
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