I realized I was never going to have any peace with myself unless I made an honest stab at trying to write.

I started publishing stories in small magazines early on, but after seven or eight or nine years you feel like you need a little more than that to show for your efforts.

I'm a writer, not an editor, and though the editing rarely cut into my writing time, it did take away from that walking-around-thinking-about-it-when-you're-not-thinking-about-it time that I think is important for writers. When you're half-thinking about what you're working on while driving, cooking . . . just letting things sift and settle, come to you.

By the end of the first decade of writing, I considered myself a confirmed failure in the eyes of the world.

Americans are incredibly polite as long as they get what they want.

It's amazing what happens when you stick yourself in a place and let things take their more or less natural course.

It is sort of weird being honored for the worst day of your life.