I never have been a musician; I'm not actually capable. Because I can't even pretend to acquire the gift, all of my first feelings about art are still attached to music. I look at it yearningly, I look at it wonderingly. I behold it from afar, as something unattainable, something outside of myself, from which I can take nourishment, but I can't domesticate and master.

I'm gregarious with writers and never with manuscripts . . . I [like to] create the illusion of seamless perfection, so I alone know the flawed homely process along the way.

I listen to music all the time. I write while listening to music. And I tell myself that the music nourishes the art forms that I do master and domesticate, and have authority over.

What age is a black boy when he learns he's scary?

Novelists get to direct the perfect films. We get to cast every part. We dress the set exactly as we wish.

Every artist has limits. No one can do everything. It's impossible.

Writing is physical for me. I always have the sense that the words are coming out of my body, not just my mind.