I calmed myself by walking into my nearby bookstore and marveling at all the books other people had written. So many people had finished and published novels; it couldn’t be so hard, right?

I've subsequently become conscious of MAKING MEMORIES. Which makes me sound like a scrapbooker.

Every once in a while when I get a migraine, I like to think, "Who hates me today?"

As a writer, you want to go somewhere else sometimes. You want to vary the terrain that you're exploring.

I have a daughter who, when younger, possessed no barrier between her emotional self and the outside world. Her emotional insides spilled out all over, and, especially when I was sleep-deprived and probably a little paranoid, this really threatened me. It was as if she were embodying and expressing the insecurities and freaked-outedness I never express, and which I've learned over the years to keep hidden.

I love this idea of the body as a trauma archive!

No matter what you wear, not everyone is going to understand what you're saying.