Things, very strange things, happen in folktales and there is never much attention given to the whys and wherefores.

Writing, for me, is always a dance between the critical part of my brain and the subconscious.

The language of the novel differs from the just-the-facts language of the old tales. It's robust and earthy, sometimes even baroque.

I guess I'm drawn to stories of people whose physicality puts them on the outside of things in order to explore the ways in which an identity is formed around these prevailing attitudes.

As we change, the way in which we are perceived in terms of our relevance, our value, our beauty, and sexual potency changes.

The story has to flow from an unstructured, felt place, but then I have to bring my analytical brain to bear on issues of craft.

We are like flowers always reaching up towards some shred of light. I find this wondrous, nearly magical, certainly brave.