I decided early on that I was going to write my stories...in my own voice, my own words, with my own sense of humor and my own actual grammar and peculiarities of speech… everything exactly the way I would tell it.
On the drive to the crematorium, I think I make peace with your death.
Sacrifice can be this totally joyful choice that people make, which is something that I've come to terms with more, recently.
The ship features a recreation of a slave ship's hold. The cruise prides itself on it. It is not a good recreation, if the metric is realism.
This character, she treats dating and writing very similarly.
I am Iris, I thought. Iris is me, and Iris is in the wrong lane.
I wanted to bring water into these places that are sterile or dry or drought-ridden.
Don’t worry, I said, you’re the sea, and it’s impossible for the sea to drown. There’s nothing big enough for you.
The hall closet candles are white, ten inches long, and shaped like penises.
That was the summer that Tim had a left hand full of broken bones.