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I have a writing addiction.

I've tried to quit writing several times, but I enjoy it too much.

Writing, for me, was a feat of self-preservation. If I did not do it, I would die. So I did it. Obstinacy, not talent, saved my life.

I started to write in about 1950; I was thirty-five at the time; there didn't seem to be any strong motivation. I simply was endeavoring to put down in a more or less straightforward journalistic style something about my experiences with addiction and addicts.

I started writing to save my life.

There came a time when I felt I was not going to be satisfied with life unless I could write.

Writing's like gambling. Unpredictable and sporadic successes make you more addicted, not less.

I haven't stopped writing which is good. I'm scared to stop completely otherwise it might lead to stagnancy.

I did that for 40 years or more. I never had any writer's block. I got up in the morning, sat down at the typewriter - now, computer - lit up a cigarette.