Sometimes, when I'm sitting at my desk for long hours and nothing's coming to me, I remember my fifth-grade teacher, the way her eyes lit up when she said, 'This is really good.'

In the midst of observing the world and coming to consciousness, I was becoming a writer, and what I wanted to put on the page were the stories of people who looked like me.

People want to know and understand each other across lines of race, class, gender, sexuality, ability.

What I write comes from a place of deep love, and a deep understanding of all kinds of otherness.