Maybe love, like suffering, is relative.

So this was what it felt like to lose yourself. Again. To let go of your future and let it rise up and up until finally you couldn't see it anymore, and you knew that you had to start over.

It's not like it ruined my life, I was going to say, but then I didn't. Because it occurred to me that maybe it had ruined my life, in a kind of quiet way--a little lie, probably not so vital, insidiously separating me from everyone I loved.

You can't tell people how to feel when they read your work. You can only hope to connect.

For me, the process of writing a novel happens mostly in your head before you actually start writing.

Fiction is fun because you get to steal an identity and try to make it authentic.

I was worried that, as a college teacher, if I wrote too much about intergenerational sex my students would be creeped out.