It's always difficult to write honestly of one's deepest feelings, particularly without the protective veil of fiction. But the more difficult, the more rewarding if one succeeds. Rewarding not only to the work but to one's peace of mind.

For many decades my relations with my parents constituted unfinished business. I had dealt with them through sheer avoidance and guilt.

Within walking distance of any spot on Earth there's probably more than enough mystery to investigate in a lifetime.

Ever since Freud, being alone has been considered something of a psychological failure. The point, according to Freudian theory, is to be able to love and connect. But I don't believe that at all. I think that being alone and being coupled and being in a group are all natural states in which people can thrive.

I see old age not as something to hide from or dread (though there is much to oppose in the usual treatment of the old) but rather as something to embrace as the natural and inevitable end.

Usually, ordinary histories don't get the emotional feel of a period. That's what a novel can do.

I don't really think myself that sex work is necessarily more demeaning than other kinds of demeaning work.