I wanted to write this book the same way you engage in a treasure hunt: discovering clues, then going back in time to connect them to something you found earlier.
We’ve managed to isolate ourselves, as a society, from nature. Throwing the animals back on equal footing is an interesting idea.
So often, I’m surprised by what appears on the page. Fiction is a vehicle for fostering empathy.
Parkland happened, and we knew we couldn’t stay silent any longer.
As artists, we will never know the full extent to which our work has affected others. But I would ask this, if you could change just one person’s life, wouldn’t it be worth it? And if that person is just you, the artist, aren’t you worth it?
Our favorite books are part of what allow us to peel back the layers of our own selfhood, to reflect on our experiences.
Most of the concrete details incorporated in the poems are factually true, even though many of the characters/voices I’ve created are fictional and the comic book landscape of monsters, supervillains, and superheroes is frequently fantastic.
Every story begins somewhere different for me, which means I often have to be alert to what pulls me in.
Every writer has to find perspective on—and an appropriate position in—the narrative they want to recount.
Who the hell knows what we will do in our lives?