I’ve often considered fiction as a way to get out my worst fears, to put a mortifying or scary way of being onto the page, so that I won’t actually have to live it.
I don’t remember how I met Dennis Mahoney. One day, he wasn’t around; I knew of him only because we shared common Saint Rose blood (he was a communications major there, I am in the M.F.A. in Creative Writing program). The next, I was having coffee with him at The Daily Grind, a little joint in… Continue reading “Savage, dangerous, and smelly”: An Interview with Dennis Mahoney