Last night I was at death's door or at least at severe injury's door. I got away with very little injury; a few punches – that’s all.
I hope readers will understand that I don’t feel comfortable yet going into details about last night.
For now all I can say is that the threat of violence – of violence directed personally at you becasue it's you is for an author an interesting experience. But when life has developed into a story, there is no way back; then the story becomes just another explanation for being lost.
And yes, I should have been more careful. There are certain invitations you don’t accept.
Isaac Bashevis Singer once said that being listed in the Manhattan phonebook was helpful for him as an author. I’m glad I’m not listed.