I'm surprised I wasn't sent to therapy in the childhood to be honest. I think my parents must have gotten a kick out of it.

I think I was just a strange kid. I was definitely a weirdo. I ran a newspaper that had really dark stories all the time. My mom was always fun, she had this large box of costumes and I remember dressing up as a door-to-door saleswoman with a wig and this small suitcase I was using as a briefcase. I was walking down the street like that; I was sure I was fooling everyone.

My feeling is, the world is a lonely place. If you can find people who are like you, and find some camaraderie, that's special. I wish there was more of that in the world, in general.

It's so hard to get started creatively - it's really hard to get those first ideas out. You just have to do it over and over again, and hopefully better ones start to come. Also, anytime a good idea comes up, for a long time I think, "Oh, my God, that was so lucky that I thought of that idea, whew, I hope that happens again." The more you work at it, the more it happens, but it still feels lucky.

Once you finish the script, it's no longer yours; it's the other people making it, which sometimes can be hard.

My dad has a very dry sense of humor and my mom has a more fun, silly sense of humor. My mom is the type that, at the dinner table, you'd look over at and she'd have a piece of asparagus hanging down her nose. Classic mom bit.

I'm surprised I wasn't sent to therapy in the childhood to be honest. I think my parents must have gotten a kick out of it.