(Editor’s Note: This post was first published on 26 September 2008.)
I drink a lot of beer. I like classic rock and roll. As a nineteen-year-old I fought in Vietnam. My father was a wife beater. That’s why I joined the army at the age of eighteen. I grew up in a steel town. I grew up in the ghetto. I spent most of my life around college students or being a college student myself. I was the front man for several years in different basement rock bands. After Vietnam I hung out at a local college that had a first class ballet department. I have known women. And so on and so forth.
What does any of this have to do with anything? It’s what I write about. And I don’t think any of these experiences are unique. It’s simply my life.
In other words, whatever your life is it’s a gold mine of material for your fiction.