People don't believe me when I tell them I'm a magician who makes portals to other worlds. So I tell them I'm a writer instead.

My next option is to only write a list of the books I like, but then again, I don’t read a book I don’t like so it doesn’t solve any of my problems.

That’s why I wanted to be a writer - because someone I loved told me I could be one.

Surely it is an odd way to spend your life - sitting alone in a room with a pen in your hand, hour after hour, day after day, year after year, struggling to put words on pieces of paper in order to give birth to what does not exist, except in your head. Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing? The only answer I have ever been able to come up with is: because you have to, because you have no choice.

Words are not too old, only people are too old if they use the same words too frequently.

I am the worlds laziest writer.