She thought that this man was her savior, that he had come to her at a time in her life when her life demanded completion, an end, a permanent fixing of all that was troubled and shifting and deadly. And yet it was absurd to think this. No person could save another. So she drew back from him and released him.

I wrote a novel called "Blonde," which is about Norma Jean Baker, who becomes Marilyn Monroe, which I called a fictitious biography. That uses the material as if it were myth - that Marilyn Monroe is like this mythical figure in our culture.

This was before voice mail, recorded phone messages you can't escape. Life was easier then. You just didn't pick up the phone.

I want to tell you that I love you I want to tell you that I love you I want to tell you that I love I love I love I love but you do not.

If you are a writer you locate yourself behind a wall of silence and no matter what you are doing, driving a car or walking or doing housework you can still be writing, because you have that space.

Critics sometimes appear to be addressing themselves to works other than those I remember writing.

The - the sort of thing that I want to do is to strike a resonant chord of universality in other people, which is best done by fiction.