I could not do what I do if I were not obsessive compulsive to a certain extent. I don't act clinically OCD. I'm not going to check things so many times I have to take drugs for it. But the kind of complicated and painstaking work I have to do to make my drawings, it just kind of harnesses that compulsive energy in a constructive way.

I still found literary criticism to be a suspect activity

I'd been upstaged, demoted from protagonist in my own drama to comic relief in my parents' tragedy

Sometimes I wish the writing and drawing were more integrated.

The web is my unconscious but it's also a wish -- a fantasy of what my own creativity might look like if I weren't constantly impeding its flow.

I just met someone who read Gone With the Wind 62 times for exactly that same reason. She couldn't bear that it wasn't real. She wanted to live in it.

I’m glad mainstream culture is starting to catch up to where lesbian-feminism was 30 years ago.