I try to convince myself that it's the alcohol talking. But alcohol can't talk. It just sits there. It can't even get itself out of the bottle.

That's what the voices in your head are for, to get you through the silent parts.

How do you commemorate a year? A paper anniversary, but we are the words written down, not the paper.

me: just don't ask about his forty-three ex-boyfriends, okay? or ask him about why he's carrying around an axe. mom:... me: i'm kidding about the axe part.

I can honestly say Ive never thought for a second about whether a character reflects poorly on any group. All that matters to me is that the character is true to my belief in who he or she is.

Part of growing up is making sure your sense of reality isn't entirely grounded in your own mind.

His books are kept on freestanding shelves hung at different angles on a sea-green wall. They defy gravity, as good books should.