On the Writing Process:

"When in doubt, take it out.,

Something is wrong with a sentence when you can delete words and not sense the loss.

A story is not like a road to follow … it's more like a house. You go inside and stay there for a while, wandering back and forth and settling where you like and discovering how the room and corridors relate to each other, how the world outside is altered by being viewed from these windows. And you, the visitor, the reader, are altered as well by being in this enclosed space, whether it is ample and easy or full of crooked turns, or sparsely or opulently furnished. You can go back again and again, and the house, the story, always contains more than you saw the last time. It also has a sturdy sense of itself of being built out of its own necessity, not just to shelter or beguile you.

Sentada enfrente de mis borradores, de repente me invadió el pánico como cuando un mago descubre que acaba de perder sus poderes por completo. Ahora simplemente no podía penetrar en el mundo distante de las letras, a mi alrededor ocurrían cambios incesantemente, como las pequeñas ondas del agua. Siempre había pensado en un triunfo repentino, como Alí Baba que sólo con leer un conjuro abrió la puerta de la cueva del tesoro, como Bill Gates que en una noche se convirtió en archimillonario, como Gong Li que a mi edad ya había subyugado a decenas de millones de hombres blancos con su magnífica belleza sin hablar una sola palabra de inglés.

I just knew there were stories I wanted to tell.

This earth that we live on is full of stories in the same way that, for a fish, the ocean is full of ocean. Some people say when we are born we’re born into stories. I say we’re also born from stories.