SELECTED INTERVIEWS ABOUT THE GLASS EYE
Fanzine | with Michael Kimball
When the book existed only inside my head, it was the book I promised him. The moment I started writing the first sentence, the promise was broken.
Bustle | with E. Ce Miller
As a reader, I’m not interested in a memoir’s synopsis. I’m interested in its author’s exploration of thoughts and feelings, thoughts about feelings, and feelings about thoughts. To me, that’s what makes a memoir feel alive.
Bookselling This Week | with Jamie Thomas
The conventions that we break — in writing and in life — reveal the texture of our feelings and thoughts.
TinHouse.com | with Masie Cochran
I’m someone who will change her clothes in front of an open window. Not because I want people to see me naked. My God, no. I do it because I assume no one is looking. And it was that sort of thinking that made drafting the memoir possible.
Columbia Journal | with Daphne Palasi Andreades
There’s a difference between being self-aware and being self-absorbed. I didn’t want my experience of loss to be the only experience that I explored.
The Rumpus | with Kelsey Osgood
Manic, I imposed meaning where it rarely existed.
The Arkansas International | with Elizabeth DeMeo
I like when a memoirist begins a sentence with: I can’t remember if.
The Writer | with Gabriel Packard
An important lesson – about as important, I think, as having a routine; let yourself write badly.
When the book existed only inside my head, it was the book I promised him. The moment I started writing the first sentence, the promise was broken.
Bustle | with E. Ce Miller
As a reader, I’m not interested in a memoir’s synopsis. I’m interested in its author’s exploration of thoughts and feelings, thoughts about feelings, and feelings about thoughts. To me, that’s what makes a memoir feel alive.
Bookselling This Week | with Jamie Thomas
The conventions that we break — in writing and in life — reveal the texture of our feelings and thoughts.
TinHouse.com | with Masie Cochran
I’m someone who will change her clothes in front of an open window. Not because I want people to see me naked. My God, no. I do it because I assume no one is looking. And it was that sort of thinking that made drafting the memoir possible.
Columbia Journal | with Daphne Palasi Andreades
There’s a difference between being self-aware and being self-absorbed. I didn’t want my experience of loss to be the only experience that I explored.
The Rumpus | with Kelsey Osgood
Manic, I imposed meaning where it rarely existed.
The Arkansas International | with Elizabeth DeMeo
I like when a memoirist begins a sentence with: I can’t remember if.
The Writer | with Gabriel Packard
An important lesson – about as important, I think, as having a routine; let yourself write badly.