I judged about a zillion awards this year so Ive been reading a lot of books that just came out.

I have worked really hard to defy categorization, to break down a taxonomy whenever it comes my way.

Impotence, fetishism, bisexuality, and bondage are all facts of life, and our fiction should reflect that.

The past was so past it hurt.

I think literature is best when it's voicing what we would prefer not to talk about.

I am in Boston right now, in fact, to do work at the New England Historical Genealogical Library, where I'm trying to finish up tracing my lineage back to the seventeenth century.

I suppose I should say that I treasure blasphemy, as a faith of the highest order.

Genre is a bookstore problem, not a literary problem.

It's also true, however, that having conquered the regional writer ghetto, I am now intent on conquering the nationalist writer ghetto and moving out into the world more.

I'm trying to read more dead people because I keep having to read stuff for juries and so forth.

Major theme of the book ["Hotels of North America"], from my point of view: what is persona, what is self, in the digital sphere, and/or what is the effect of it on self in a prolonged interaction.

You owe it to yourself, to refuse to surrender to obstacles that are meant to stop you from reaching far in your endeavours. Be determined that you will never be a captive of your environment.

At the center of non-violence stands the principle of love.

If you want a thing done well, get a couple of old broads to do it.

Government is inherently incompetent, and no matter what task it is assigned, it will do it in the most expensive and inefficient way possible.

If we can't be true to ourselves, what can we be true to?

memory is so selective; wishful thinking presses it into service all the time.

The human heart has a staggering capacity for love.

There should be more booing in shops and restaurants and places like that when when the service is bad. If you've had a poor breakfast in a hotel, you should put your knife and fork down and boo.

True Blood' is amazing. I have to give a shout out to 'Melrose Place' because I do watch. I love 'Entourage.' One of my favorite shows back in the day was 'Friday Night Lights.

The dog who doesn't bark is about a silence that speaks; it is a good metaphor for the Pariah voice, the dog's voice, that we can sometimes hear only when it does not speak.