–Name a childhood hero.

Artemis

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

King Lear. But I’d be happy with An Artist of the Floating World or Cloud Atlas.

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

When Last I Saw You

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

If I were a man and an Athenian, maybe Euripides and his circle. Fifth-centuryAthenswas an interesting place to be, plus it’s near theAegean.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

It surprises me when people hone in on the dinner party in An Unexpected Guest rather than one of the novel’s themes, such as conflicts between past and present, private and public, or the shifting sands in global life post-9/11. But there seem to be many ways to read and enjoy the novel, and I love that.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

Anyone thinking I lead a life like Clare’s in An Unexpected Guest would be mistaken.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Deplore is a harsh word, but I don’t appreciate being lectured to by writers of fiction, even when I agree with their beliefs.

–Name your five desert island films.

Wouldn’t it be too bright? Would there be an electric plug or battery recharger?

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

I recently read Dinaw Mengestu’s The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears and have been pressing it on people ever since.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

Does the U.S. Constitution count?

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

All of them, so thank God that I can’t.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

The popular English children’s author Lucy Daniels is just the brainstorm of a guy in NY named Ben.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

I really only read poetry, Shakespeare, and Greek myths over and over, but I do keep Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe on my bedside table.

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Self-discipline, from years as a freelance journalist

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

No regrets

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

An arcane, out-sized instinct for privacy

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

How long it has taken me to write something. It’s just not that tidy a process for me.

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

Whether I’d like to join Michelle and Barack for dinner at the White House?

–Name a childhood hero.

Sally Ride, Turtle Wexler, Nancy Drew, and an amateur animal hoarder who shall remain nameless. She lived in our neighborhood and rescued greyhounds, squirrels, raccoons – and racked up a large number of notices from the homeowner’s association. She had heart and pluck.

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

The Bear, by William Faulkner.

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

My collection title alternated between “Housewifely Arts” and “Birds of a Lesser Paradise” (the title that stuck.)

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Edna St. Vincent Millay. I heard she had some pretty amazing parties by the pool she made out of an old barn foundation. Also, I think cooking dinner with Carson McCullers, Marilyn Monroe, and Arthur Miller might have been fun, the table conversation rich in perspective. And cleavage.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

I’m still ecstatic that people want to read my work! I doubt this will ever cease to be a novel concept for me.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

I am not twee. I am a short-tempered non-theist trapped in the body of Skipper, a wanna-be eco terrorist with mascara on. Fearsome, really.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

I’m petrified of those who lack a sense of humor about their image and work.

–Name your five desert island films.

Some sort of Wes Anderson box set would do fine.

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. Edisto by Padgett Powell. Green Mountain Farm by Elliott Merrick.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

Ulysses? The Bible? How to Win Friends and Influence People? This would make a good Family Feud question.

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

All of them, always and forever. I’m often confident about individual lines, but rarely sure I’ve gotten something right in its entirety.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

No one tells me anything. I live in rural Vermont!

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

Anything Flannery.

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Looking up at the motivational memos I’ve written on Post-it notes in my office, complete with swear words.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

Looking at the search terms that lead people to my blog or website.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

I get profession fatigue. I feel that everyone is writing, everyone has something to say, and I worry about what drives me to write. Is it narcissism? A need for attention? Some deeply buried notion that I have something worth saying, and that I’m capable of saying it in a valuable way? There is so much content in our world. I worry that I’m adding to the noise level.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“What’s your book about?” *freezes*

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“What’s your favorite song in the Wham! discography?” Careless Whisper.

OR

“What’s the next animal for the farm?” Polish hens, and a donkey, which I’d like to name Simon LeBon.

–Name a childhood hero.

Franco Columbu, an amateur Italian boxing champ and powerlifting and bodybuilding wonder boy.

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

Ironweed by William Kennedy

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Ernest Hemingway, just so I could see how he would behave on a book tour…..

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

House of Sand and Fog, It’s such a dark book, so bleak; I guess I didn’t expect anyone to want to read it.

–Correct a misperception about you as a writer in fifty words or fewer.

I read very little of what people say about me or my work, so if there’s a misconception out there, I’m not really aware of it.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Self-absorption, careerism, and arrogance.

–Name your five desert island films.

Raging Bull, Cinema Paradiso, The Grapes of Wrath, The Magnificent Seven, and Marty

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

The Hair of Harold Roux by Thomas Williams

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

The Catcher in the Rye (At least, I haven’t!)

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

It would have to be every single one. Why? Samuel Beckett said it best: “ Ever tried, ever failed. Never mind. Try again. Fail better.”

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

I don’t gossip. Or at least I try not to……

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration

Breece D’J Pancakes short stories, Hemingway’s short stories, Marguerite Duras’ The Lover, to name a few…

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Not showing anybody what I’m working on, ever. Not talking to anyone about what I’m writing, ever.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

Any time I’ve intentionally or unintentionally hurt another human being.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

To get more reading done.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“Do you think I have talent?” (Sometimes, it’s actually difficult to tell, especially since so much good writing comes from hard work, talent or not.)

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“How long have you been happily married?” (All of our 23 years together….)

–Name a childhood hero.

Anne Shirley (aka Anne of Green Gables)

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

Member of the Wedding, by Carson McCullers

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

Gosh. I can’t even remember. I started the book as a novel in stories and so each of the chapters had a name (“Crack the Whip” was one of the chapter names).

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

I have romantic notions about a lot of periods of history, but it honestly would have sucked to have been a female writer pretty much any time but now. Even now it’s no cakewalk but it’s getting better all the time, especially with independent presses like Engine Books.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

I have this weird little story called “The Villager” in an issue of Caketrain. People always seem to like it so much which surprises me because I worried it would be cryptic (even though it makes sense to me)

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

Some might mistake my enthusiasm for obsequiousness.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

I can only speak of my own despicable traits. I dislike when I feel so hopeless about my writing life that I allow myself to wallow in jealousy and bitterness over someone else’s success.

–Name your five desert island films.

Manhattan
It’s a Wonderful Life
Brokeback Mountain
Out of Africa
When Harry Met Sally

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

Snowcrash, by Neal Stephenson

AND/OR

Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson (you’ve got to get past the first 50 pages and then it explodes!)

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

Atlas Shrugged

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

It would definitely be one of the unpublished novel manuscripts on my hard drive.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

I’ll let you know when I get back from AWP in March.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

I tend to read poetry and books on the craft of writing for inspiration.

Poetry, I turn to Jane Kenyon’s collected poetry or Li Young Lee’s The City in Which I Love You, among others.

For craft/writing life books, I love Ursula Le Guin’s Steering the Craft, Anne Lamont’s Bird by Bird, Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life.

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Pushing through and resisting the urge to show anyone the work before it’s finished.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

I regret sending work out too soon. As a writer, patience is key and there have been times when I’ve lacked it.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

Letting go of the voice in my head that tells me I can’t do something or that I’m not good enough.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“What’s your book about?”

I’m never sure whether people want a plot summary or want me to delve into the themes. I tend to babble. My husband has learned to cringe when anyone asks me this now as he is so embarrassed by my response, or lack thereof.

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“What does writing give you?”

–Name a work you wish you’d written.
Walks With Men, Ann Beattie

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Faulkner and Hemingway – so I could sit and listen.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

The same thing I hate in myself: jealousy at others’ success…

–Name your five desert island films.

The Departed, No Country for Old Men, Groundhog Day, When Harry Met Sally, The Philadelphia Story

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

The Wild Palms, William Faulkner

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

The Brothers K – See, I can’t even spell it…

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

Anagrams, Lorrie Moore

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Dim lights, a glass of wine. Also, early mornings, black coffee.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

Sigh.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

I’m impetuous. I want the end at the beginning. But then, at the end, I miss the beginning.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“How long did it take you to write that?” Nobody wants the real answer: as long as it took me to learn how to write. Decades.

–Name a childhood hero.
Peggy Fleming

–Name a work you wish you’d written.
Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.
Others Less Fortunate, Sarah Davina

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Flannery O’Connor. In addition to loving her short stories, I’ve read her collected letters, The Habit of Being, and admire how her deep religious beliefs, inner strength, and daily discipline for writing carved out a way of life that managed to overcome her immense physical limitations (her illness), and at the same time nurtured her wild and unique, visionary fiction. Her writings left a deep impression on me when I was starting out, and continue to resonate decades later.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

My novel, Night Swim, because it went through rounds of rejections over several years and as a consequence I built up a lot of inner defenses about what defines success. This third time around, landing a small, innovative publisher, was truly the charm. Recognition from book bloggers and established media such as The Boston Globe and The New York Times has been gratifying, of course, but I’m a bit in shock as I take it all in.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

I’m a bit clueless about how I am perceived. Maybe someone else should answer this for me?

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Writers who don’t support other writers or who think they don’t need to support other writers.

–Name your five desert island films.

It’s A Wonderful Life
A Christmas Carol (1951 version starring Alastair Sim as Scrooge)
It’s A Mad Mad Mad MadWorld
Lawrence of Arabia
Brideshead Revisited (starring Jeremy Irons as Charles Ryder)

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel, a slim book orig. published in 1953 and translated by R.F.D. Hull that quietly teaches lessons about life and living. A book to keep by your bedside.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.
Huckleberry Finn

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

My first, unpublished novel about a serious illness called: Body Chemistry. I think there’s a great story there but it needs some tightening and polishing.

Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

Sorry, I don’t share secrets. I keep them.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Daily word count of about 500 words

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

I regret letting self-doubt take over.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

Overcoming self-doubt.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

My apologies but I drew a blank. Possibly this question?

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

I enjoy questions that address specific scenes, characters or descriptions in my work. It’s fascinating to see what people notice and react to; what captures their attention.

–Name a childhood hero.

Early childhood: Thumbelina. Later: King Arthur. Still later: Gloria Steinem.

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

Michael Chabon, Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. Christina Stead, The Man Who Loved Children.

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

Penance
What Hands Do
Until You Come to Me

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Thomas Hardy. He came into the world of fiction writing after Dickens and before Joyce, just as things were changing from the big Victorian novel to the psychological and experimental novels of the 20th century. He would have been fun to engage with, both as a fellow writer and as a contemporary thinker.

–Name a work whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose. Such a complicated, arcane work—I love it—but I was surprised that it last so long as a bestseller.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

Since I published The Misconceiver, I’ve been categorized in some quarters as a writer of sci-fi or futuristic fiction. Not true at all. That book is set in 2028 because the premise in it was that Roe v. Wade had been overturned. But it—like all my work, even like the historical novel that’s coming next—is really of this moment.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Prima donna attitudes. And the idea that we’re noble and victimized because no one reads any more.

–Name your five desert island films.

Cast Away
King Kong
Jeez, I don’t know any other desert island films! Kidnapped?

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

Christina Stead, The Man Who Loved Children. Pat Barker, Resurrection.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

Anything by Julian Barnes. And David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

I would love to rewrite The Misconceiver. I think it was a great idea. I don’t think I pulled it together plotwise with the verve and precision it deserved.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

Not sure this is printable. But for years, the 12 letters that James Joyce wrote to his wife, Nora, beginning with “My Darling Little Fuckbird” (and going on in highly pornographic vein), were censored from Joyce’s Collected Letters. The small publisher I worked for just out of college got hold of these letters and hired me to proofread the handwritten copies against the typeset text in order to publish them as a shocking leaflet. But the Joyce estate got wind of the project at the last moment, and a revised edition of the Collected Letters was quietly rushed into print, with the porno letters included. We never published the leaflet, but it was an interesting introduction to the publishing business.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

The Great Gatsby

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Sit my backside down in the chair no matter how uninspired I feel. Type one sentence. Type another sentence. Now another. Good. One more. Look at the quotation on my wall, from Michelangelo: “Draw, Antonio. Draw. Draw and do not waste time.”
Or this: coffee.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

I wish I’d known more about the business of publishing when I published my first two novels. I wish I had known enough to really care about who my editor was and how well the books were published. Being published badly is worse than not being published at all.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

I struggle with stasis. The only way for my readers to know the characters who inhabit my mind is for those characters to do something. But getting them moving sometimes feels impossible.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“What is your inspiration?” It’s everything and it is nothing. It sometimes comes in the act of writing itself. I simply cannot pin this answer down in a way that satisfies the questioner.

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“What are you working on now?”

–Name a childhood hero.

My grandfathers: John Harbert, a three-war veteran; and Robert Boudinot, a visual artist.

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

“Everything Ravaged and Everything Burned” by Wells Tower. I tried writing a Viking story years ago and it was a disaster. When I read Tower’s story, I saw how it was supposed to be done.

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

The one that I remember is Otherworldly.

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Bruno Schulz. So I could attempt to save his life.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

I have always had a pretty good sense of how my work will be received, positively and otherwise. I have yet to be really surprised.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

I honestly don’t know how to answer this question.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Maybe deplore is too strong a word, but I try to resist the notion that being a writer puts you in a special category that allows you to behave according to separate rules. I don’t really think there’s anything all that special about being a writer that gives you a pass to be an asshole.

–Name your five desert island films.

The Holy Mountain, Alejandro Jodorowsky
This is Spinal Tap, Rob Reiner
Being John Malkovich, Spike Jonze
Synecdoche New York, Charlie Kauffman
Brazil, Terry Gilliam

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

White Noise, Don DeLillo

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

The Grapes of Wrath, Steinbeck

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

None.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

You really don’t want to know.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

Certain stories—“In the Penal Colony,” Kafka; “Sea Oak,” George Saunders; “Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius,” Borges

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

No habits, really. I just plunge forward as best I can.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

I really regret selling my drum set when I was 12.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

Understanding when something isn’t finished.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“How do you write something funny?”

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

Who are some contemporary writers you admire? (Answer: Trinie Dalton, Gary Lutz, Stacey Levine, Grace Krilonovich, Micheline Aharonian Marcom, Michael Klein, Victoria Nelson, Vladimir Sorokin, Aase Berg, Sjon, and on and on….)

–Name a childhood hero.

The great first baseman, Willie Stargell

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

Any sentence by Isaac Babel. Any one sentence by Alice Munro.

–If you had to order your work by how successfully you tend to complete what you set out to accomplish, what would that list look like?

I’m not sure it would be a list, I think it would more like a smatter, or a splatter, something along these lines.

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Dickens, to read him in his own time, and at his own serialed pace, especially a book like Bleak House would, I think, be even more amazing than reading him as we do today.

Also Isaac Babel, I would like to think I would had the courage to stand up for him when he was kicked and kicked.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

I’m continually surprised that the Second Coming of Mavala Shikongo, a book about a pretty obscure southern Africa, resonates with people who have never and will never go to Namibia.

–Correct a misperception about you as a writer in fifty words or fewer.

In spite of the above, I wish more people read my work in order to have misconceptions about it! I think some people want more action out of work – but for me, sitting at the kitchen table and ruminating on one’s failures can be very riveting. At least it was this morning. For me anyway.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

The great Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh said, “Tragedy is underdeveloped comedy.” For years I have been planning to get this tattooed on my ankle. Any writer who isn’t funny, forget it. It’s not tragic. Life is tragic and hilarious and the two loop around and chase each other all day long, every day.

–Name your five desert island films.

The Sure Thing, Ordinary People (which is funny in a tragic kind of horrible way), My Cousin Vinny, Squid and the Whale, and to be all highbrow but by that Swedish guy…Winter Light (my kind of movie, not much happens), same Swedish guy, Fanny and Alexander. All the President’s Men. I think that’s more than five.

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

John Edgar Wideman’s Philadelphia Fire.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

The Bible.

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

The Second Coming of Mavala Shikongo, needs even more sex.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

That Melville was in love with Hawthorne, really in love. But maybe everybody knows this? I for one love both of them.

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

An odd choice, but very much the truth, a painfully beautiful book, Plains Song by the way too unknown Nebraskan writer, Wright Morris.

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Always write by hand, stay the hell away from any computer.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

Jesus, where do I start? Where does anybody? There’s not enough room in my rom capacity or whatever its called.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

Being ruthlessly honest in every given moment in a story.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“Name a regret, literary or otherwise.”

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“Why did you beat up Evan Kushner at Camp Androscogin in 1982?”

Wow, I’m so glad you asked that. That little asshole really had it coming, wouldn’t let up on me from being a hick from the midwest who couldn’t even hit a proper backhand that what did I do in Illinois, have sex with cows while the rest of the world was playing tennis?….but I wish it was true that I beat him up; this would, to be perfectly candid, unfair to that little asshole, Evan Kushner. Both of our noses were bloody. I’d say it was a draw actually, and I’ve been waiting something like thirty some odd years for a re-match, in this my first and last fist fight. But again, I’m pleased by the question, and with the implication that I actually won. Thank you for it.

–Name a childhood hero.

Larry Bird. He’s still a hero.

–Name a work you wish you’d written.

Cloud, Atlas by David Mitchell. A big book about the big issues: humanity, civilization, progress, love and life and death. One of the most stunning books.

–Name some of the original working titles of your work before it was published.

For a while, I called the book The Moon Landing, after the third story in the book.

–Name a writer in history of whom you would like to have been a contemporary of and why.

Charles Dickens. I read recently that he wrote Nicholas Nickleby and Oliver Twist at the same time. And it only took him thirteen months. How ridiculous is that? I’d have loved to be have been able to see that kind skill up close.

–Name a work of yours whose reception you’ve been surprised about and why.

A story of mine – “Visiting” – appeared in the Atlantic’s Fiction issue a few years back. Every so often, someone will come up to me after having read it, and will tell me about having had a tough relationship with their father. It’s always good to see people respond so viscerally to short fiction.

–Correct a misperception about you–as a writer or a citizen–in fifty words or fewer.

Oh, I don’t think I’m anywhere well known enough to have created any misconceptions. I hope.

–Name a trait you deplore in other writers.

Arrogance.

–Name your five desert island films.

The Deer Hunter; Breathless; Singing in the Rain; Back to the Future; Goodfellas

–Name a book not your own that you wish everyone would read.

Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson. I just love that book. Every sentence is a treasure.

–Name a book you suspect most people claim to have read, but haven’t.

Ulysses. Or Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses.

–If you could choose one of your works to rewrite, which would it be and why.

Probably “Catherine and Henry” – not because I think it’s unfinished, but because it was the story I worked on the longest. Every nine months I’d try a new draft. It feels in a way like it’s about time for that.

–Share the greatest literary secret/gossip you know.

I love the story of Norman Mailer punching out Gore Vidal. Supposedly, Gore Vidal looked up at Norman Mailer from the ground, and uttered: “words fail Norman Mailer yet again.”

–Name a book you read over and over for inspiration.

Collected Stories: John Cheever. And Emperor Of the Air by Ethan Canin.

–Name the writing habit you rely on to get you through a first draft.

Write every day.

–Name a regret, literary or otherwise.

I always regret the stories that don’t get finished. Or the stories that end up in a drawer. There’s always so much potential in every failed idea.

–Name your greatest struggle as a writer.

I think it’s the same struggle we all have – to write something others will want to read.

–Name a question you get about writing to which there really is no good answer.

“Where do you get your ideas?” This questions gets asked all the time. Everywhere. Even by the people closest to me. There’s no good answer to this question.

–Name a question you wish you had been asked.

“What can we expect next from you?” My novel Wise Men will be published at the beginning of 2013. It’s a big epic book about love, race, and money. A plane crashes in the first sentence. I can’t wait for people to read it.