So I’m into men now, even though they can be frightening. I want a schedule-keeping, waking-up-early, wallet-carrying, non-Velcro-shoe-wearing man.

It's weird: I was in a conference room, shouting out story ideas in the voices of different characters, and it was something I had to learn because I'd never been in that atmosphere. But I think I had a quick learning curve, because this is the job I was supposed to have.

Sometimes you just have to put on lip gloss and pretend to be psyched.

Writing, at its heart, is a solitary pursuit, designed to make people depressoids, drug addicts, misanthropes, and antisocial weirdos.

That's my advice to people. You can't get hung up on thinking, "Am I the victim in this situation?" No, I'm in charge of it.

What? I have a cold. Don’t get a look of terror on your face. The worst that could happen is that you’ll get a cold, too. You don’t have to theatrically Purell a thousand times a day and look all panicky every time I come into the room.

I was kind of unfriendly and suspicious of everyone around me. I didn't talk until I was about 15. It's a kind of famous story at my house.