My parents made the decision never to focus on my looks, and I had no sense of myself as beautiful.

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.

There is no end to the promotion. There is no end to the possibilities. You can continue to promote a book for years, literally.

Recognize the possibility of the divine in any given moment.

It's easier in an urban world to cast the blame outward. So I've learned a lot about my own process in that way.

We're all simultaneously separated and connected by our devices, staring into our little screens, and also hungry for experience and community.

How do we live the writer's life? There's only one simple answer: 'we write.'