People love to read about sins and errors, but not their own.

I know I'm a rare person, a trained scientist who writes fiction, because so few contemporary novelists engage with science.

A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had. But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.

The way I see it, a person isn't nothing more than a scarecrow... The only difference between one that stands up good and one that blows over is what kind of a stick they're stuck up there on.

Your dreams, what you hope for and all that, it's not separate from your life. It grows right up out of it.

I know I have to write about the things that keep me awake at night.

There is something in us that loves certain disasters and the fever of this moment and surrendering to that.