I sometimes feel as if ideas for a novel kind of pop up like numbers in a bingo tumbler, and then they're ready to go.
When you have a book out, it's like a period of protracted or concentrated megalomania, and it's really not normal or good for you or any of that.
I think a lot of the dull parts of first drafts come from a kind of over-managing, intrusive writer who wants to direct traffic. The idea of taking out the parts that the reader could infer is very liberating, and it's weirdly part of radicalizing your work: it allows you to go to new places fast.
I'm not particularly good at doodling. I'll doodle the same face over and over again.
In 'The Interestings' I wanted to write about what happens to talent over time. In some people talent blooms, in others it falls away.
People like to warn you that by the time you reach the middle of your life, passion will begin to feel like a meal eaten long ago, which you remember with great tenderness.