I moved through the days like a severed head that finishes a sentence.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss--you have gone and lost something else.

In my head there's a broken balcony I fall off of when I speak.

consolation is a beautiful word. everyone skins his knee-that doesnt make yours hurt anyless.

I started writing by doing small related things but not the thing itself, circling it and getting closer. I had no idea how to write fiction. So I did journalism because there were rules I could learn. You can teach someone to write a news story. They might not write a great one, but you can teach that pretty easily.

The other day I was playing Scrabble. I saw that I could close the space in D-E- -Y. I had an N and an F. Which do you think I chose? What was the word I made?

Dreams: the place most of us get what we need.