As you probably know by now, I love characters who have no real idea what each other are talking about.

It’s usually what’s happening around us in reality.

Back then, even somebody with Rosen’s limited education could speak a bit of French.  Today, even National Public Radio pronounces German wrong; it’s like listening to a 19th-century comedy skit between Hans and Fritz.

I’m beginning the first page of the new anthology, which resembles The Virgin Project in its structure — and has the eager and welcome help of one of its authors. The first person says she thinks a train will get her. I’m having gruesome fun concocting images of subtle — if that’s possible — train deaths.  Originally, I was calling the anthology The Mortal Coil, but only as a working title.  I’m now seriously considering calling it A Little Death.