The translator ... Peculiar outcast, ghost in the world of literature, recreating in another form something already created, creating and not creating, writing words that are his own and not his own, writing a work not original to him, composing with utmost pains and without recognition of his pains or the fact that the composition really is his own.

I don't feel I have to struggle against allegory. I let the readers do the interpreting.

I think the close work I do as a translator pays off in my writing - I'm always searching for multiple ways to say things.

I never dream in French, but certain French words seem better or more fun than English words - like 'pois chiches' for chick peas!

The moment when a limit is reached, when there is nothing ahead but darkness: something comes in to help that is not real. Another way all this is like madness: a mad person not helped out of his trouble by anything real begins to trust what is not real because it helps him and he needs it because real things continue not to help him.

I do see an interest in writing for Twitter. While publishers still do love the novel and people do still like to sink into one, the very quick form is appealing because of the pace of life.

My stories are sometimes closer to poems or meditations, but often there is at least a little narrative in them.