I like talking to myself and making patterns out of the letters of the alphabet on blank surfaces.

I can edit into infinity. It's such a joy. I'd probably edit until the last word. Until there's only one word left.

The truth, and nothing but the truth, is that dawn begins with a wrestling match with my soul and a systematic rejection of all the other useful possibilities a day offers. I make obeisance to the story, its characters, and the muse with burnt offerings.

Recording stories is a way of honoring the faculty of memory, even if it's recorded, outsourcing memory to technology.

I don't think Kenya is the only country that tries to induce amnesia - it seems to be a global phenomenon. But offenses do not die. They do not disappear.

Kenya is a mercurial character. I feel the country has a presence that can turn on its people in a very violent way.

I am indebted to anyone who has ever written anything. I am indebted to the unknown carver of pictograms on a gallery of stone panels, which I encountered and stood in silence before on top of a distant odd-shaped hill in northern Kenya. For whatever reason the muses have most unexpectedly invited me to join this immense procession. I am humbled and delighted.