Writing well involves walking the path of most resistance. Sitting still, being patient, allowing the lunatic dream to take shape on the page, then the shaping, the pencil on the page, breathing, slowing down, being willing–no, more than willing, being wide open–to press the bruise until it blossoms.

Our minds have a tendency to wander. To duck and feint and keep us at a slight remove from the moment at hand.

The Internet and all its lures are much, much harder than anything I've ever encountered. If you're writing on a computer, the very instrument you're writing on is already tainted by the world out there in all its permutations.

Everything changes. The more I try to hold on to the moment, the more it slips through my fingers.

Confidence is highly overrated when it comes to creating literature. A writer who is overly confident will not engage in the struggle to get it exactly right on the page - but rather, will assume that she's getting it right without the struggle.

What was going on inside of me became louder because everything around me became quieter.

My desk is covered with talismans: pieces of rose quartz, wishing stones from a favorite beach.