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I took up a sort of a hobby of just hanging around the local library. I'd pick out an author and I would read all their books.

What would have become of me if no one had wanted to read my books? And don't forget all those who have written of me.

I would love to be in public one day and see someone reading my book. I think that would be so ridiculously cool.

Without books I would not have become a vivacious reader, and if you are not a reader you are not a writer.

When we had to do book reports, I would pick a book that no one read and just make it up and turn that in. I got praised for my imagination.

I'd go to the library so I could sit in a big, quiet room and listen to pages being turned. There was a boring librarian who everyone in fifth grade hated. But I loved her because when she would read us stories in her soft voice, she'd turn my head into a snow globe.

I used to write in a local coffee shop, but there was another guy, another writer, who kept sitting in my favorite seat. I would show up, and he would be there, and I would get exiled to a couch or something, and it would throw me off my game.

I would go to the all-night grocery store and pretend that I was at Studio 54 because it was the only place open all night. Truman Capote in the frozen foods. Andy Warhol over in vegetables.

Early on, if I was alone two three nights in a row, I'd start writing poems about suicide.

There would be nights when I would wake up and couldn't get back to sleep. So I would go downstairs and write. The staff had a pool going on how many pages of typing I would bring in here in the morning.