I've been going to San Diego's Comic-Con every year since 2007 or 2008. The first time I went it was an overwhelming experience because I wasn't expecting all the people; I wasn't even expecting all the joy. I came from a background where, when I was about eighteen or nineteen, I found comic-book fandom. But it was the fandom of online communities. And within those communities there was a tremendous amount of excitement and joy, but I'd never been around people in such a large group setting where this joy was pouring out of them. It was a revelation.

The one thing about being a creator, about being an artist, is that you get to explore your ideas. We're fortunate that we're in the position to do that, and I don't take it for granted.

Miracles pass and I see. Great wonders speak and I listen.

Nice characters are boring! I like writing upbeat characters - that's my natural tendency.

The important thing about doing art and writing is that we are using our voices and using them really, really loudly. And to any girls or young women who want to write comics, I tell them, "You have to use your voice. You have to take up space." We have to fight to be heard. No one else is going to fight for us.

All of us change. Everyone in this world, from birth to death, becomes someone new. Again and again, we are remade.

In real life, I knew that fandom was made up of women, and women of color, and women of all ages. But on the publishing side of comics, it was a lot of white, straight men. It was often jarring to me to be the only women at a meeting or at a panel at a comic-con. Fortunately I had mentors who were not blinded by my gender and who said, "Yes, we know you can write these books." That hasn't been the case for everyone. What gives me great hope is that in the eight to nine years since I've started, I've seen tremendous growth.