My dad is very ill right now [with cancer], and I was talking the other day with a social worker from the hospice. And when I told her about what I was writing, she said, 'Oh, I know what memoirs mean. You just make it all up.' It's shocking that people who aren't in the literary community have such a reaction now.

My dad witnessed that and carried him back to the rest of the platoon, which were behind him. And this experience damaged him very deeply.

It was extremely, extremely dangerous. The casualty rate was very high.

As a girl, I used to zip myself into a snowsuit, fall into the deepest snowdrift I could find and sweep my arms and legs into the powder, making snow angels that would crumble within minutes of their genesis. Despite their rapid disappearance, something about these frozen, evanescent angels has stayed with me ever since.

I started listening to the Cure around the time I discovered Joy Division and, like Joy Division, they have shaped my taste in all sorts of dark and dreary ways.

What you're talking about here is a cancer and you have to cut it out, ... You can't use Band-Aids.