By the way, I really liked the Informers (the one I read at my father's hospital bed side) - Dad wanted to know what I was reading and I said, "just a book" not wanting to go into details and I did not say it sarcastically so it was ok - his sister kept probing me on who the author was - she never heard of him and that infuriates her - she thinks she knows everything worth knowing - but then she discovered that my seats at the opera are 5th row and hers are next to the last row and that set off something else and she forgot all about Bret Easton Ellis - then I discovered she had 100s of librettos that belonged to my grandparents had she threw them out because who would want them and I was wishing that Patrick Bateman was there (no, not really but I sure wish she had given me those librettos, those things are expensive new and to have the ones my grandparents had would mean so much).
Vince where else can you get dialogue like this from the Informers: "I thought Jamie was killed instantly," I say, standing there. "He was." Dirk shrugs. "What? Why?" "You told Raymond he, um, bled to death." "Christ - what's the difference? I mean, really," Dirk says. "Jesus, his parents had the fucking wake at Spago for Christ sakes. I mean, come on, guy." "No, really, Dirk," I'm saying. "Why did you tell Raymond that?" Pause. "Is that the truth?" Dirk looks up. "I hope it made him feel worse." "Yeah?" I ask, trying not to grin. Dirk stares at me hard, then stops, losing interest. "You never grasp anything, Tim. You look okay, but nothing works."
