If you could cook dinner for any author, dead or alive, who would it be? What would you make?
I would make dinner for Morley Callaghan in thanks for writing ‘That Summer in Paris’ the antacid to “A Moveable Feast.” I’d make a pasta dish with garlicscape pesto and porcini mushrooms.
What scares you the most about the writing process? How do you combat your fears?
My fear: I have a really good day and the story comes alive. The next morning the story’s lying on the floor splintered to pieces by some malevolent force. What do I do: see end quote.
Who is your biggest literary crush, author or character?
Jorge Amado’s Tieta.
What books are on your nightstand?
Mourjou: The Life and Times of an Auvergne Village, by Peter Graham.
The Grave’s a Fine and Private Place, A Flavia de Luce Mystery, by Alan Bradley.
This Changes Everything, by Naomi Klein.
Where do you get your ideas? What inspires you?
Ideas are gifted to me ex nihilo. That process, in and of itself, inspires me to no end.
Favorite punctuation mark? Why?
The comma. It’s like a bass line or drum beat and pushes the rhythm of a paragraph.
What book were you supposed to read in high school, but never did?
I did my best to avoid textbooks.
What inanimate object would you thank in your acknowledgements?
My Mac Air. It’s a long way from illegible scribble or jamming the keys on my ancient Olympia portable typewriter.
Why do you write? The first 5 words that come to mind. Go.
I have to, have to.
If you could write an inspirational quote on the mirrors of aspiring writers, what would you write?
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.