Jim Parrack

I met some fans who said, 'Please start Twittering!' They even walked me through it, but I'm terrible at it. I'm so bad at keeping it up. I forget how to use it. And I'm not very savvy: I try to send a private message, and it goes out to everybody.

I know why people lie to themselves in life, but I'll never understand the appeal of the dishonest theater where the actor doesn't make some earnest attempt to include their own honest humanity in their collaboration with an author. It's so ugly to me that it hurts sometimes to see it happen.

It is only when you watch the dense mass of thousands of ants, crowded together around the Hill, blackening the ground, that you begin to see the whole beast, and now you observe it thinking, planning, calculating. It is an intelligence, a kind of live computer, with crawling bits for its wits.