I like hoodies. They just make me feel safe.

I loved being in my own head so much, it was getting harder and harder being with other people.

I am different when my nails are done. I am more dynamic. I gesticulate more, I am better at scaring my staff. I can indicate impatience by drumming on tabletops and I can wrap up a meeting with a few choice clatters.

What doesn't kill us makes us funnier.

I couldn’t be with people and I didn’t want to be alone. Suddenly my perspective whooshed and I was far out in space, watching the world. I could see millions and millions of people, all slotted into their lives; then I could see me—I’d lost my place in the universe. It had closed up and there was nowhere for me to be. I was more lost than I had known it was possible for any human being to be.

Do I mind being called a chick-lit writer? Well, it's not the worst thing that could happen.

My truth is that what doesn't kill you makes you weaker rather than stronger, although it makes you wiser.