We were young. We were bored. And the old electroshock therapy machine was just under the stairs in a box next to the Hoover.

It was like living in a new house. I saw the undersides of tables, walked through the tangle of chair legs. It would be good to be a dog, I thought. You would feel safe surrounded by all of these leggy objects that never tried to run away.

Just as I had long suspected, a person didn't really need math for anything anyway. Maybe some people did. Some limited people.

As a writer, you can't allow yourself the luxury of being discouraged and giving up when you are rejected, either by agents or publishers. You absolutely must plow forward.

We were young. We were bored. And the old electroshock therapy machine was just under the stairs in a box next to the Hoover.

Maybe you feel pressure to be positive because so many people rely on your good, fake-positive energy? If that's the case, screw everybody else. You're not a bottle of Valium.

When people meet me, many times they're very surprised because they expect someone who is kind of wacky with seven piercings and very hip and cool and New York City, and I'm not.