I don’t think Max’s colonization of the bathroom is an accident. It’s a place where we feel vulnerable, and many times we attach a lock to the door to prevent others from walking in unannounced.
In fact, my experience watching Popeye is what this film most reminded me of: the feeling of alarm, then dismay, and then the slow death of acceptance.
Early readers have already told me that this is a novel about coming to New York as an artist and what it takes to succeed. Believe it or not, I wasn’t thinking about that all too much.
I’ve never felt I’ve fully, accurately transcribed a mental concept through writing, and that’s one of my key motivations for continuing: maybe I’ll get closer next time, or maybe not, but I’ll keep trying.