I actually feel that the different kinds of stories come out of different parts of my brain.

I used to not back down from a challenge.

Sometimes I wonder how normal normal people are, and I wonder that most in the grocery store.

I like it that order exists somewhere even if it shatters near me.

People are people, messy and mutable, combining differently with one another from day to day - even hour to hour.

What it boils down to is that parenting a child with autism is a difficult job; writing about it is far easier.

My first degree came years before my second. I had wanted to be a physicist, but I flunked calculus.