What passes for news is just morbid speculation or cartoonish screaming, followed by diaper commercials.

I think that's the real horror story for me, how little you can ever really know about your own motivations. How in the dark we all are about the concerns and the contents of our minds.

I moved to New York with the derangement of love. I was writing all these terrible stories, but I had never been happier.

I have friends who are capable of writing a very rough draft and then going back and embroidering - they're sort of the cathedral builders of fiction. I never really know what I'm doing, and all my pleasure's on the level of the line. It's a weird way to move forward. It's kind of like a way to caterpillar your way through these great woods. The best ones, whatever I feel like I'm writing about, some other secret thing will begin to come into focus.

Self-disciplin e is necessary, but so is playfulness, flexibility, joy. When you stop demanding perfection of yourself, your writing desk will become a spacious place.

I often felt myself to be an outsider, which is great training for all writers.

My favorite classes were always dumb nerdy vocabulary.