I have long observed that the act of writing is viewed, by some, as an elite and otherworldly act, all the more so if a person isn't paid for what she writes.

I was giving a speech one time, and the woman who introduced me said, 'Well, she used to be J. D. Salinger's girlfriend. I thought, 'God, is that all I've been?' I didn't want to be reduced to that.

The painter who feels obligated to depict his subjects as uniformly beautiful or handsome and without flaws will fall short of making art.

There is a theme that runs through my work, and that is: the toxic property of keeping secrets.

If I told you about all the stories I don't tell, I would be violating the very boundaries I set for myself.

I compromised my ability to tell my story, at the most basic level.

She felt everything too deeply, it was like the world was too much for her.