The worst violence we can do to each other often is psychological, especially in families. I dwell a lot on domestic danger. That's the backdrop of most of my novels - what kind of damage is done without ever lifting a finger.

Truman Capote was a magical, beautiful writer.

I live for the blank page.

People didn’t fall in love with other people. They fell in love with how other people made them feel about themselves. And so, it was easy to get someone to love you – if you knew how they wanted to feel.

The girl with the pictures on her skin.

Maybe that alone was the foundation of a good marriage, an endless willingness to forgive and to love in spite of ourselves, an ability to ride the highs and endure the lows, the decision to always go home. She.

If she was honest with herself, the challenge of Graham excited her at first. She amped up her fitness routine, wore the sexiest underwear she could find. She made him chase. Blocked his calls sometimes, even stood him up once. Once upon a time, she’d been the woman sending dirty texts. His excitement excited her. That’s why she thought she’d left Will for Graham. Because Graham excited her. Because life with him, what it would be, could be, seemed like a mystery, an adventure.

I don’t think of my characters as people I create, I think of them more as people I have met and whom I’m exploring on the page. I don’t actually think of myself as having ‘created’ any of these people.

Dysfunction isn’t a choice, it’s a disease.

IF YOU REALLY let life take you, if you release control and stop clinging to sameness, you can’t imagine the places you’ll end up. But most people don’t do that. Most people get this death grip on what they know, and the only thing that loosens their grasp is some kind of tragedy.