Q: You're kind of down on them because they both sank like a stone, and you felt like you had frittered away your inheritance on a self-indulgent lark, publishing them, and also, you felt like you had betrayed Brenda, not just once, but twice, but to me, Evil Genius and Open Book are a one-two punch. To the soft underbelly of American letters. To mix a metaphor.

A: Thank you. Thank you very much.

Q: I think Evil Genius is a better book than Russell Baker's Growing Up, or Annie Dillard's Pilgrim at Tinker Creek/The Writing Life.

A: Thank you.

Q: You lay out what you're trying to accomplish in there, the adversity of your struggle, to that date, in a disarming way. It makes people root for you, like rooting for the underdog.

A: No shit?

Q: Then, in Open Book, you tell how you felt when your hopes were dashed.

This really is the rest of the story, the part of the story that does not get told, because it makes the author look so bad.

Telling it, and then publishing the book, makes you look heroic.

You put your money where your mouth is. It's a very existential act.

A: Thank you.

Q: I think they go together like Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn.

Or A Fan's Notes and Pages From a Cold Island.

A: You do?

Q: Or Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

Huck Finn was a sequel to Tom Sawyer.

It could have milked the successful formula, for laughs.

Instead it was much darker in tone. It was a man's book. Not a children's book.

What a surprise. Got you.

You got 'em, in Open Book.

A: No shit?