I’m all for whatever transitions the book properly to a movie.
To me, marriage is the ultimate mystery.
I think mystery writers and thriller writers – whatever genre you want to call it – are taking on some of the biggest, most interesting kind of socioeconomic issues around in a really interesting, compelling way.
I’m a true-crime addict. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but I can’t stop.
There are no really new stories anymore.
There are a million talented writers who are unpublished only because they stop writing when it gets hard.
Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.
Love should require both partners to be their very best at all times.
I assumed everything bad in the world could happen, because everything bad in the world already did happen.
Everytime people said I was pretty, I thought of everything ugly swarming beneath my clothes.
A town so suffocating and small, you tripped over people you hated every day. People who knew things about you. It’s the kind of place that leaves a mark.
What a generous thing that is, I realize, for a husband to try to make his wife laugh.
We’re into this barrage of pop culture – you know, TV, movies, the Internet. We become creatures that we’ve made up, made of certain different flotsam from pop culture and certain different personas that are in style.
He was one of those guys who’d pronounce I’m a hugger as he came at you, neglecting to ask if the feeling was mutual.
I’d come to believe there was no food more depressing than Danish, a pastry that seemed stale upon arrival.
How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky?
I’ve always believed clear-eyed sobriety was for the harder hearted.
Ah, well, being conflicted means you can live a shallow life without copping to be a shallow person.
Women get consumed. Not surprising, considering the sheer amount of traffic a woman’s body experiences. Tampons and speculums. Cocks, fingers, vibrators and more, between the legs, from behind, in the mouth.
I’ve always been partial to the image of liquor as lubrication, a layer of protection from all the sharp thoughts in your head.