Oftentimes, if a writer really gets her hooks into me, I'll want to read interviews, or listen to an interview, or read a literary biography or a memoir of some kind. And doing so almost always deepens my enjoyment of the author and her work.

I can think of plenty of writers whose work I revere and whose lives I know little about.

I can only imagine the quiet horror that people must endure when they meet me in person.

The modern media environment is so overrun with bullshit and static and people trying to sell you stupid crap. It makes you want to bite yourself.

I feel like it's a good time to be a writer. I'm terminally optimistic. It seems like the publishing industry is in the middle of a big transition, and that the rules of the game are still sorting themselves out.

David Cristofanos debut novel captures the essence of the human spirit, and delivers a story that is simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking.

Getting tired of sitting, staring at my computer screen, day after day, where everyone is two-dimensional, reduced to an avatar photo, status updates, or maybe some carefully curated vacation photos. There's something exhausting about that after a while. I found myself wanting to hear voices.