CALVIN
I don’t know. I don’t know. I get an idea, a good idea, like, why don’t I write about my dad? And BAM, I start thinking that is the stupidest thing ever, who wants to read about “He was disappointed in me, bla bla bla.” But then I’m sitting there, alone, in front of my typewriter all day, and maybe I get something to eat, and all I can think about…

