I promote my own self-hatred.
It’s hard for me to think of writing a novel, because it takes so long.
It’s hard to leave New York: this is where my friends are, my parents are. It is so vital. The whole world seems to look to New York.
For me, books have always been a way to feel less alone while being alone. Perhaps if I was depressed and isolated, just communicating with these authors through their sentences helped me.
I started puberty very late. I was nearly sixteen. And for complicated reasons this late arrival of my puberty caused me to stop playing competitive tennis. But before my puberty problem, I had trouble with my lower back and with my left testicle.
I hid my underwear beneath a parked Peugeot.
I grew up in northern New Jersey – the banlieue of New York – and I now live in Brooklyn. I am separated from my parents by about 50 miles, but really there is almost no distance between us. I speak to them nearly every day.
There’s no shortage of material in life.
There are so many talented young writers named Jonathan, with whom by comparison I suffer terribly.
The reason it’s hard for me to tweet is I don’t want to pronounce anything, and Twitter is for pronouncing.
Something has happened where you almost never grow up in America. Maybe it’s the greater wealth.
I don’t like to publicly acknowledge being a Jew.
I don’t laugh that much, but I do like humorous books, and I like to entertain readers that way.
Don’t hold me to anything in the book. I’m a waffler. I like wafflers. They said John Kerry was a waffler, but I admired him for that – showed he could change his mind.
Unfortunately, I’m one of those idiots who knows everything about health and is in a constant state of alarm, and yet I continue to do everything I shouldn’t do.
For me, books have always been a way to feel less alone while being alone.
Oh, God, I don’t know what’s more difficult, life or the English language.
I was aware that I was acting atrociously but I couldn’t stop myself. Rarely had I behaved in such a manner. But I guess when we’re feeling lonely in life, we attack those who actually do love us. It’s one of the things that characterizes human nature and can be summed up in one word: FLAWED.
I’m on the verge of a total breakdown. Sciatica. Taxes. Cars. Fleas, possibly. It’s an absurd existence.
I don’t really recognise success. I don’t see myself as on an upwardly mobile trajectory. I see myself as on the edge of a cliff about to fall off.