I've always thought a hotel ought to offer optional small animals. I mean a cat to sleep on your bed at night, or a dog of some kind to act pleased when you come in. You ever notice how a hotel room feels so lifeless?

Not until the final draft do I force myself to remember that I'm going to have to think about how it will affect other people.

I hated childhood, and spent it sitting behind a book waiting for adulthood to arrive.

When I'm working on something, I proceed as if no one else will ever read it.

I remember leaving the hospital - thinking, 'Wait, are they going to let me just walk off with him? I don't know beans about babies! I don't have a license to do this.' We're just amateurs.

I don't want to say I hear voices; well, actually I do hear voices, but I don't think it's supernatural. I think it's just that when characters are given enough texture and backbone, then lo and behold, they stand on their own.

I'm falling into disrepair