The only failure in writing is when you stop doing it. Then you fail yourself.

You don't know what you're doing. You're just hoping that people won't make fun of you. I had no idea how it would turn out.

This is the practice school of writing. Like running, the more you do it, the better you get at it.

If I didn't have that, fear and projections over what was coming next could have taken over. But it was tough. Don't think I was an angel. It was hell.

Life is not orderly. No matter how we try to make it so, right in the middle of it we die, lose a leg, fall in love, or drop a jar of applesauce.

In a way, the cancer became an ally because it stopped me from running around so much. I was able to settle down and write things I hadn't had a chance to before.

I don't know anything but writing practice, and so what I really do is direct that energy as if it were flowing down a river.