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In France, For Instance, One Magazine Writer Was Convinced That On The Road Had Been A Huge Influence On Lost Souls And Was Crushed To Learn That I Hadn't Read The One Until After I'd Written The Other.

-Poppy Z. Brite

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In France, For Instance,

Poppy Z. Brite

...

In France, For Instance, One Magazine Writer Was Convinced That On The Road Had Been A Huge Influence On Lost Souls And Was Crushed To Learn That I Hadn't Read The One Until After I'd Written The Other.

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I've Certainly Learned A Great Deal From My Husband, Though, And Could Never Have Written A Book Like Liquor Without Him And The People He Introduces Me To And The Stories He Brings Home.

I'd Much Rather Do An Obviously Commercial Writing Project Than Get A Day Job.

I Certainly Wanted To Write A Book That Was Honest About New Orleans Without Explaining It To Death, So Much So That The First Draft Contained References Absolutely Incomprehensible To Anyone Who Hasn't Lived Here For Several Years.

My Childhood May Have Been More Demented Than Most, Because I Learned To Read Very Early And Was Allowed To Read Whatever I Wanted.

I Like Visiting Peoples Homes On Saint Josephs Day, When People Set Up Altars, Serve Food As A Tribute To The Saint, And Invite The Public - I Enjoy That Much More Than Mardi Gras.

Young Writers Shouldn't Be Afraid Of Striving To Emulate Their Favorites. It's A Good Way To Learn, As Long As You Move On From It And Don't Publish Too Many Of The Results.

Ive Tried To Avoid Labels, But They Always Find You.

If You Want Something, You Don't Wait For The World To Deal It Out For You. You Take It.

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In The Netherlands I Read The First Chapter Of Exquisite Corpse To An Audience That Laughed In All The Places I Thought Were Funny - An Experience I've Never Had In America!

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Why Bother? I Was Right All Along: The Second You Make Yourself Vulnerable To Someone, They Start Drawing Blood.

And I Can't Think Of A Reason I'd Ever Use A Pseudonym, As I Wouldn't Want To Publish Something That I Didn't Like Enough To Put My Name On It.

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If You're A Freelance Writer And Aren't Used To Being Ignored, Neglected, And Generally Given Short Shrift, You Must Not Have Been In The Business Very Long.

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Mostly I Enjoy The Restaurants (my Husband Is A Chef), Though I Wish We Had A Wider Diversity Of Ethnic Food.

The Night Is The Hardest Time To Be Alive And 4am Knows All My Secrets.

They Discovered That Even In The Face Of Pain That Seems Unbearable, Even In The Face Of Pain That Wrings The Last Drop Of Blood Out Of Your Heart And Leaves Its Scrimshaw Tracery On The Inside Of Your Skull, Life Goes On. And Pain Grows Dull, And Begins To Fade

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With The First Kiss His Mouth Will Taste Of Wormwood.

Some Of The Food In Liquor Is Food I've Really Eaten Filtered Through A Veil Of Fiction.

I'm Your Nightmare. Did You Think You Were Done With Nightmares, Now You've Become One?

The Sky Is Purple, The Flare Of A Match Behind A Cupped Hand Is Gold; The Liquor Is Green, Bright Green, Made From A Thousand Herbs, Made From Altars. Those Who Know Enough To Drink Chartreuse At Mardi Gras Are Lucky, Because The Distilled Essence Of The Town Burns In Their Bellies. Chartreuse Glows In The Dark, And If You Drink Enough Of It, Your Eyes Will Turn Bright Green.

In France, For Instance, One Magazine Writer Was Convinced That On The Road Had Been A Huge Influence On Lost Souls And Was Crushed To Learn That I Hadn't Read The One Until After I'd Written The Other.

I Believe In Whatever Gets You Throught The Night. [...] Night Is The Hardest Time To Be Alive. For Me, Anyway. It Lasts So Long, And Four A.m.knows All My Secrets.

Sometimes We Gotta Be Brave Even When We're Scared. We Gotta Not Let Being Scared Keep Us From Thinkin' Straight. That's All Brave Is, Boy, When You Come Right Down To It, Not Lettin' The Fear Get You So Turned Around You Start Doin' Stupid Things, Instead Of What You Know You Ought To Do.

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This Is The Point Being Missed By Readers Who Lament Liquor's Lack Of Hot Sex Scenes, Probably Because They Aren't Old Enough To Understand That A Passionate Relationship Could Be About Anything Other Than Sex.

It Was Like Discovering That Your Innermost Fires And Terrors, The Things You Believed No One Else Could Fathom, Were In Fact The Basis Of A Recognized Philosophy. Some Part Of You Felt Intimately Invaded, Threatened; Some Other Part Fell To Its Knees And Sobbed In Gratitude That It Was No Longer Alone.

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