I had spent my childhood and the better part of my early adulthood trying to understand my mother. She had been an extraordinarily difficult person, spiteful and full of rage, with a temper that could flare, seemingly out of nowhere, scorching everything and everyone who got in its way. [pp. 40-41]

Writing has been my window-flung wide open to this magnificent, chaotic existence-my way of interpreting everything within my grasp.

It's essential to have sacred time for writing. All successful authors have some daily commitment to keep on-track and moving forward.

Our minds simply don't function in some sort of narrative chronology. I think that one of the great gifts of writing fiction is being able to think about that.

When I was starting out there was no Internet, there wasn't this sense that you could be connected to other writers around the world. And that created a kind of innocence, or parochial quality, even in NYC.

Logic and faith don't occupy the same side.

When I sit down with my notebook, when I start scribbling words across the page, I find out what I’m feeling.