Everything takes me longer than I expect. It's the sad truth about life

Everything takes me longer than I expect. It's the sad truth about life

In order for a long piece of work to engage a novelist over an extended period of time, it has to deal with questions that you find very important, that you're trying to work out.

Does such a thing as "the fatal flaw," that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature?

I think it's hard to write about children and to have an idea of innocence.

Every new event—everything I did for the rest of my life—would only separate us more and more: days she was no longer a part of, an ever-growing distance between us. Every single day for the rest of my life, she would only be further away.

Any action, in the fullness of time, sinks to nothingness.