My parents had an arranged marriage, as did so many other people when I was growing up. My father came and had a life in the United States one way and my mother had a different one, and I was very aware of those things. I continue to wonder about it, and I will continue to write about it.

With children the clock is reset. We forget what came before

The thought of Christmas overwhelms him. He no longer looks forward to the holiday; he wants only to be on the other side of the season. His impatience makes him feel that he is incontrovertibly, finally, an adult.

A bicultural upbringing is a rich but imperfect thing

I would not send a first story anywhere. I would give myself time to write a number of stories.

Relationships do not preclude issues of morality.

Do what I will never do.