Sometimes, when I read the blurb on the inside of a book, look at its cover, I think: How can someone write so much about that? I find myself writing short stories because I can’t drag out that long. I can’t think that far ahead. I don’t write plot outlines; diagrams—that’s never been instinct for me. I write, my fuel being thoughts and ideas, and when it runs out, I have nothing left. I don’t continue. There are great books out there by great authors, but more often than not, it’s just someone standing on a trampoline, a thought, a story already written by someone else, and then crouching down low and trying to jump as high as possible, and then to keep bouncing as much as possible after the landing. I don’t think I can truly understand what it is to be an author, because I always think of writing a story, but never really do anything, because I lack original ideas. Now, as I still have a bit of fuel left over, I think: Does anyone have original story ideas anymore?