One thing that’s not a hobby but is something I have to do is walk my dog. I’m not the first person to say walking is helpful. For writers, leaving the mental space and returning to a physical sensation in your body is important. Even playing piano is like a physical sport. Because we live so up here [gestures above her head] when we’re writing.

I do believe that some of the funniest people you’ve ever met might not ever be on a stage. Similarly, some of the most talented musicians you will ever hear are playing in a little house somewhere across the world. Some of the most profound exchanges of words happen between two people who are channeling an intimacy and depth of humanity which not all of us will hear.

It comes in fits and starts. In the past I thought about them as creative blocks, but I don’t really think about it like that anymore. I just think about it as a season. That’s okay.

There’s a lot of ways to talk about this but in terms of writer’s block, every block I’ve ever had, every metaphysical obstacle and every obstacle inside of me that has prevented me from doing something that mattered to me always factored down to fear. It was really a matter of, in most cases, lowering my standards, and it was this kind of perfectionism. Like, I can’t write badly, I can’t fail, I can’t be rejected. If it becomes okay to be rejected or to fail or to stutter in your attempt at something, then it becomes more possible to do it. If I have to do it perfectly the first time—and my default is that it should be perfect the first time—then I become immobilized.