The minute you had kids you closed ranks. You didn't plan this in advance, but it happened. Families were like individual, discrete, moated island nations. The little group of citizens on the slab of rock gathered together instinctively, almost defensively, and everyone who was outside the walls—even if you'd once been best friends—was now just that, outsiders.

And specialness - everyone wants it. But Jesus, is it the most essential thing there is? Most people aren't talented. So what are they supposed to do - kill themselves?

Being a teacher at a restaurant in the town where you lived was a little like being a TV star.

Just the act of sleeping beside someone you liked to be with. Maybe that was love.

But this post-college world felt different from everything that had come before it; art was still central, but now everyone had to think about making a living too, and they did so with a kind of scorn for money except as it allowed them to live the way they wanted to live.

People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.

Both my mother and I have close groups of friends that include other writers, and these friendships are very important to us.