I think so often, especially if the work is perceived of as being drawn from life, the woman, not her book, is reviewed.

I do think that memoirs by women are reviewed differently and considered somewhat outside of the canon.

I think the key to writing the truth of our existences, so much of this is being incubated online, is examining the conflicts and the messiness, our sometimes dividedness, dealing with gender and other hierarchies, and also our identities outside of them, deeply personal and yet somehow critical and circumspect.

I think the online space can be a free space, in that we are not reliant online on the publishing industry or readers who just don't get it.

My rage and sense of alienation as to how women have been written, have allowed themselves to be written, in so many ways, has political roots.

The concept of "girl-on-girl crime" is perplexing to me, and it happens in many ways. There are those, who refuse to identify with women as a group, preferring the shade of the mythologized men, who want to keep up the status quo.

She smoked because she craved something to do with her hands, that delicate interplay of light and cup and first inhale. Craved the repetition of it. It was so difficult sometimes to be still in a room, alone with oneself. To bare oneself to the lonely.