The novel's not the best form for disposing ideas, though that's one thing it can do. It likely is the best form, though, for conveying the experience of us each being alone, trapped in our skulls with only these bodies and this imperfect instrument of language to convey our state and to find meaning and connection.

The real past can traumatize us, but so can the real future.

I love poetry, read it a lot, but make no claim to being able to write it.

We can't write a serious novel in the 21st century without acknowledging the inescapable self-awareness we're stuck with. The idea we're surrounded by falsehoods and lies. It's hard for the thinking person to believe in narratives. And yet we want some place to invest our belief.

Science is claiming ever more ground from popular stories of the kind we thought we weren't to believe in.

Trauma, and certain important experiences, can imprint on us at a genetic level.

We want to know that we're not alone with our loneliness or loss.