Evel Knievel Days took many years to write. Seven, in fact. And my life has changed so dramatically from that day — in the summer of 2005 — when I sat down to work on the follow-up to Red Weather. I’ve moved from Brooklyn to Portland, Oregon. I’ve started teaching at Lewis and Clark College. I now have two beautiful, two-year-old twins. Hard to believe.
A writer’s life isn’t usually all that exciting. There are many hours of sitting in front of a keyboard, tapping away. Many hours of solitary confinement. Sure, the solitude — the freedom of it — can be invigorating. But it can also be lonely. More and more I’ve begun to understand and appreciate what each book means that comes into the world: many hours of single-minded labor, alone.
But — hopefully — there is a point of connection with readers. And a flare of imaginative joy, that rarest of experiences.