The common, the quotidian, is so much more unyielding to me, really stubborn and hard to work with, and I like this because it makes me think and it makes me worry. I can't just plunge my hand into the meat of it. I need new approaches.

Fiction becomes a place where I face certain fears such as losing language or losing my children.

Judaism to me, as badly as I practiced it, what I've always loved about it was its total embrace of complexity, its admission of unknowability.

It amazes me that parents are allowed to raise kids. There's so much power and often very little accountability.

People are considered as areas that resist light, mistakes in the air, collision sweet spots. At the time of this writing, the whole world is a crime scene: People eat space with their bodies; they are rain decayers; the wind is slaughtered when they move. A retaliation is probably coming. Should a person cease to move, she would cease to kill the sky, and the world might begin to recover.

Among other things, autoimmune disorders are an induction into a world of unstable information and no reliable expertise.

Without sound, celebration and grief look nearly the same.