I had a naiveté that I would remember the things that I had written already, but I was getting lost in the forest of my own ideas and having to find my way out.

The way some were entrapped into lives of prostitution, the way that something like marriage could rob them of their rights.

Whenever people say a coincidence in a novel is implausible, I think, Do I have a story for you.

Each source that I read, I would look through the bibliography and the footnotes, and use that as a map for the next thing I would read.

I've been told it's hard to write about singing. I didn't realize that going into it. I might not have tried if I knew!

Most written work is a conversation between the editor and the writer, that the writer essentially fulfills in public, and the editor provides the stage for that to happen as well as the prompts.

Throughout my reading life, I've enjoyed many memorable meals-if only fictionally. The oysters at dinner near the beginning of Anna Karenina, the dinner Nana throws for her overflowing guests in Zola's Nana, the walk through Les Halles for breakfast in Baldwin's Giovanni's Room, and nearly every meal in Monique Truong's The Book of Salt.