Water is the exile, carried back in cans and flasks, the ghost between your hands and your mouth.

Snap. Lady with dog. Lady on sofa half-naked. Snap. Naked lady. Lady next to dresser. Lady at window. Snap. Lady on balcony sunlight. (On New Orleans photographer E. J. Bellocq)

A novel is a mirror walking down a road

There's a lot of thievery involved in writing. You're breaking into other people's spaces and other people's stories.

I'm a Canadian citizen. But I always want to feel at home in Sri Lanka. I'm a member of both countries.

When you're writing, it's as if you're within a kind of closed world.

Moments before sleep are when she feels most alive, leaping across fragments of the day, bringing each moment into the bed with her like a child with schoolbooks and pencils. The day seems to have no order until these times, which are like a ledger for her, her body full of stories and situations.