James Bernard Frost

I had just turned 28 and sold my first book, a travel guide for vegetarians, but I'd tell people about the day job that I didn't care about instead - I placed banner advertisements on the web for a search engine company.

I'm at my best when I'm being genuine and sincere, and reading my material straight up to an audience that wants to listen.

I love Dave Eggers. I hate Dave Eggers. If I could become any other living writer, I would answer faster than anyone else in the room, 'Dave Eggers.'

I first became familiar with Dave Eggers's work when I was living in San Francisco and enrolled at USF's MFA Program.

Whatever one thinks of Twitter, the Friday Reads hashtag is kind of a cool tradition.

Now Dave Eggers, if you lived in San Francisco, is not an easy person to be done with. Everyone - and by everyone, I mean every white person with a college education and an interest in books - wants a piece of him. It's not just his amazingly powerful prose; it's also his charitable works.

For everyone I know who is a writer, there was some awkward time in their lives when they had to learn to call themselves one.

Once the travel guide came out and won an award, once I got an MFA in creative writing, once I sold my next novel, I finally started telling people that I was a writer. I remember how special that year felt.