[The novel represented a big step for the author, too.] Coming from the world I was in, writing very esoteric short fiction ... I knew exactly what boundary I was stepping over, ... I was leaving one camp and stepping into another. |
an inner-city, working-class kid. |
Dave has a moment when he's young where he tries to talk to his mother, who just shuts him down, ... From that point on, Dave had to create someone else; that's where his problems begin. That's the tragedy of his character: He's been hiding it for too long. He doesn't know himself. |
I had a 97 mile-an-hour fast ball, and I couldn't hit the plate. Like Nuke LaLoosh. |
In the Flats, half the people didn't have lawns, and the fences sagged, ... When you wanted to party, you partied, because ... you sure as hell deserved it. |
Jimmy would judge all patience tests against that first night in Deer Island [Prison], ... He would tell himself that he could stand in place for as long as necessary -- a day or two -- to get what he wanted, because nothing could rival that long first night with the living machine of a prison grumbling and rasping all around him as the rats screeched and bedsprings creaked and screams died as soon as they were born. |