I think it's important to remember that writing is a gift and our stories are gifts to ourselves and to the world and sometimes giving isn't always the easiest thing to do but it comes back.

I don't know how women stop being friends with other women.

Everything I write, I read out loud. It has to sound a certain way. It has to look a certain way on the page.

You can't always be pushing people away. Someday nobody'll come back.

Even with all of its changing, Brooklyn's architecture still feels like home, the language feels like home. It's changing so quickly that it's surprising. It's surprising still, when someone looks kind of askance to see me walking towards them.

There is something so deeply visceral about libraries for me-rooms and rooms full of people dreaming and remembering.

I feel like so much of what I'm doing is making a road where there is no road and inviting people on that road with me. It's scary. It's scary, but I can't listen to the voices that are saying form is the only way, or that there is only this kind of form or that kind of form.