I save the best of myself for novels, and I believe it shows

I was standing in the schoolyard waiting for a child when another mother came up to me. Have you found work yet? she asked. Or are you still just writing?

In real life I avoid all parties altogether, but on paper I can mingle with the best of them

Try Jesus, you won't regret it, a billboard read.

My writing day has grown shorter as I've aged, although it seems to produce the same number of pages.

I just want to be told a story, and I want to believe I'm living that story, and I don't give a thought to influences or method or any other writerly concerns

Sooner or later, even the sharpest pain became flattened.