Part of the creative process for me is an invitation for readers to follow their imagination.

I forgive you," I said. I said what I had to. I would die by pieces to save myself from real death.

After telling the hard facts to anyone from lover to friend, I have changed in their eyes. Often it is awe or admiration, sometimes it is repulsion, once or twice it has been fury hurled directly at me for reasons I remain unsure of.

Tess was my first experience of a woman who had inhabited her weirdness, moved into the areas of herself that made her distinct from those around her, and learned how to display them proudly.

I was like I was in science class: I was curious.

It's very weird to succeed at thirty-nine years old and realize that in the midst of your failure, you were slowly building the life that you wanted anyway.

How could it be that you could love someone so much and keep it secret from yourself as you woke daily so far from home?