“Where’s that fucking Kerouac? He can’t write. That shit isn’t writing."

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We would have parties in Mill Valley where everybody took all their clothes off and danced. It was really innocent, in a way, compared with the hardcore pornography stuff that goes around now, and he would just sit there and leave his clothes on and watch. Jack told me, “They won’t publish my stuff because I won’t change the names.” He had six or seven novels at that time that were unpublished, and then he finally backed off his position and said what he was going to do—said that he was going to change all the names, which he did slightly. I thought he was writing a novel. I didn’t see the people that he based those things on anything like he did. If I wrote a book covering the same period you wouldn’t recognize them, including me. He definitely saw things the way he saw them, so I figured that it was fiction. He didn’t have any problem with it. He made it all up. Which we all do. He isn’t any different than anybody else.