My dad's gay experiences really had a very positive influence on me and my straight relationships - how to better accept all the weirdness and ambiguity and ups and downs and paradoxes. I knew from the beginning I was writing about love.

My experience, with both my parents, is that grief has a lot of down, sad things, but I was also really emotionally raw, in the first year after each of them passed. Flowers smelled more intensely, my relationships were hotter, and I was more willing to risk. I was going for it a lot more. I was 'unsober' and I wasn't playing by my rules.

As a son of a man who pretended to be one thing for 33 years of my life and then was another thing, the questions of 'what is real' and 'what is not real' are very blurrily vivid to me.

Over and over again, I'm trying to express or communicate these big and small struggles to the world, and really to myself.

Grief and memory go together. After someone dies, that's what you're left with. And the memories are so slippery yet so rich.

I definitely believe in the energy of the set and the energy of the actor, way more than your written word.

I guess I watch movies to make myself happier a lot.