Most of my books have caused distribution and printing problems in the past.

But, right now, the situation is that almost all of my writing is out of print.

Further, I'm obsessed with how language contorts and creates bodies.

I don't publish the books to make money, not at all.

I don't sell enough books to pay for the lawyers, however. And these various problems finally became too much.

I'm not trying to do conceptual art.

Once again, I think there is little art being done that really owns up to such intense possibilities.

And books that were published in much larger numbers than Selfish, Little are hard to find. And publishers who wanted to publish my last few works have them stuck in limbo while new distribution ideas and legal issues and fears are blown away.

Further, for once, I like the idea that people who think I'm a constant voice for the furthering of the imagination have to see that interest in a more materialistic fashion.

If you look at the publishers I've worked with, generally, they're a great bunch. Creation is unlike any other publishing house you can think of. The people I've worked with have integrity and intelligence and, almost always, less money than ideas.

In the past the publishers I've worked with have been extremely generous. And in almost every case, have been people who believed in the work rather than the sales and marketing.

The book grew out of the introduction I did for Brady's Gates of Janus. I knew that the writing in that introduction had a better than average chance of being read by people involved in Brady's life - parents of victims, police, Brady himself.