I’ve been keeping a journal for almost 30 years now. I use my journal as a wild garden for writing ideas—I sow all kinds of concepts, quotes, stories and facts there, then come back later to harvest the good ones for poems or book ideas.
I have eight pet chickens. I love cats, but my husband is deathly allergic to them, so we adopted chickens as our pet compromise. They have a lot of personality and getting fresh eggs on a daily basis is a huge perk.
I can’t stand sitting at a desk to write. I always write in bed, surrounded by pillows and snacks.
I don’t read much fiction. I think there is so much to learn about the world, and so many well-researched and important books of nonfiction that I just don’t have that much time for novels. I’ve always used books as a way towards reality, not as an escape from it.
I’m not that brave. I’ve had a lot of readers say, “oh you’re so brave for putting your story out there and writing about hard family stuff, I could never do that...”. To me, it was more of an act of exasperation with the secrecy that encouraged me to publish my story rather than an act of bravery. I simply had to let go of this story or it was going to kill me.
I don’t know if my Dad read my book, Bandit, which details my life growing up with a him, a bank robber and criminal. Everyone asks me that, and I wish I had a better answer. It’s possible someone sent it to him in prison, but I may never know. I hope he does read it because I think he could learn a lot about himself and his family from reading about our experiences and how deeply his criminality affected all of us.
I’m not mad at my father. I have mixed feelings about him, but generally I feel sorry for him rather than being angry. He deserves help in recovering from gambling addiction and he needs empathy training. I wish him only the best and I hope he can reintegrate into society when he is released from prison without incident.
I believe in deep, serious revision, the kind that takes patience. Writing is not a math problem that you either solve right away or you don’t—it benefits from time, and from looking at it with fresh editorial eyes over and over.
I don’t think memoir is automatically therapeutic. It can be an exercise in self-absorption if you’re not careful and thoughtful about it. I genuinely believe everyone should write about their lives, and should start by thinking about it as a humbling learning experience for themselves by digging into the hardest, scariest places for a purpose.
I love writing in cursive. It’s simply joyful to use one long line, with all of the necessary twists and knots, to make each word. It’s just like knitting.