I'm very attracted to exile literature - particularly Nabokov - exactly because the idea of being away from home for any serious length of time is so inconceivable to me.

The idea that motherhood is inherently somehow a threat to creativity is just absurd.

I often worry that my idea of personhood is nostalgic, irrational, inaccurate.

It's got two aspects. The bit that involves the public life I could not really tolerate and cannot really tolerate. I just can't get used to the idea of being somebody unreal in people's minds. I can't live my life like that.