The switch that I'd like to throw on is the one that says, "Look, you're a human being whose mind is every bit as active as anybody else's. Your experiences are just as real." For that matter, even if they're even if they're crazy, they're valid. They occurred in this world so they're valid topics for literature.

That's the only way that I can figure out how to live, is to say, "Well, I don't know what this adds up to, but I can do the best I can."

I'm a control freak. I'm defensive. And I'm an egomaniac. That's true about me.

Chekhov - shall I be blunt? - is the greatest short story writer who ever lived.

There's a really nice moment in the life of a piece of writing where the writer starts to get a feeling of it outgrowing him - or he starts to see it having a life of its own that doesn't have anything to do with his ego or his desire to 'be a good writer'.

Working with language is a means by which we can identify the bullshit within ourselves (and others).

I've always wanted to write energetic, atypical sentences, i.e., sentences that were not normal or bland.