I was in a movie once. It paid pretty good. I figured out I had enough to survive, without working, for a year. So I planned on taking the next two seasons off: no plays, no commercials, no tv, nothing. Within days I started getting antsy. Without a script, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t sleep, had no appetite, missed my marks, and repulsed my friends. I ended up playing a clown at kids’ parties for a while. They thought I was funny. I wanted to tell them I was just crazy, but I kept that to myself.
I’m a novelist, poet, and short story writer living in the Desert Southwest.
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