He knows that if his father had been a different man, or his mother another women, he would have been the same.

 He would have lived all his years the same way. They played no part. Any combination would have produced the same result. The same man.


Growing up in a Mennonite background, there's not much media.

When I was growing up, I installed refrigerators in supermarkets. My father was an electrical engineer.

Growing up, I've enjoyed hunting with my father.

Basically, I was a kid growing up with a single mother in Brooklyn.

Judith Rey watches the young woman. Once upon a time, I had a baby daughter. I dressed her in frilly frocks, enrolled her for ballet classes, and sent her to horse-riding camp five summers in a row. But look at her. She turned into Lester anyway. She kisses Luisa’s forehead. Luisa frowns, suspiciously, like a teenager. “What?