My inner chemistry had been hijacked by a mad scientist, who poured the fizzy, volatile contents of my heart from a test tube marked SOBER REALITY into another labeled SUNNY DELUSION, and back again, faster and faster, until the floor of my life was slick with spillage.

Discomfort is very much part of my master plan.

I met someone who lives in an elevator.

With a book you can read the same paragraph four times. You can go back to page 21 when you're on page 300. You can't do that with film. It just charges ahead.

I don't paint anymore. I haven't since I abandoned it at 19, in order to begin writing seriously.

However appalling to consider, however tedious to enact, every novel requires furniture, whether it is to be named or unnamed, for the characters will be unable to remain in standing position for the duration of the story.

It's now expected of me that I will defy expectation, so I really generally seem to be free to write what I want.