It's because you're always fighting sentiment. You're fighting sentimentality all of the time because being a mother alerts you in such a primal way.

I think a lot of snowflakes are alike...and I think a lot of people are alike too.

There’s no use in denying it: this has been a bad week. I’ve started drinking my own urine.

No one is drawn to writing about being happy or feelings of joy.

I feel I'm moving toward as well as away from something, and anything is possible.

I think in life, there are certain choices you make that are timeless and universal, and don't necessarily have anything to do with the particulars of a certain decade.

You don't market-research a novel; you really are writing it for yourself. It's a hobby, in many ways. The problem becomes what you do when you're confronted by criticism. You just don't listen to it.