I Was Raised On The Internet.

I Never Set Out To Make Any Statements About A Specific Character, I Just Set Out To Tell What Feels Like Is A Truthful Story, A Person That You And I Might Truly Encounter.

The End Never Comes When You Think It Will. It's Always Ten Steps Past The Worst Moment, Then A Weird Turn To The Left.

I Probably I Went Into My Room Alone [when I Was Six] And I Was Just Like, How Have I Even, How Can I Even Continue On This Earth With This Terrible, Terrible Knowledge [about Sex].

Katherine Heiny's Work Does Something Magical: Elevates The Mundane So That It Has The Stakes Of A Mystery Novel, Gives Women's Interior Lives The Gravity They So Richly Deserve -- And Makes You Laugh Along The Way.

I Shared A Bed With My Sister, Grace, Until I Was Seventeen Years Old. She Was Afraid To Sleep Alone And Would Begin Asking Me Around 5:00 P.m. Every Day Whether She Could Sleep With Me. I Put On A Big Show Of Saying No, Taking Pleasure In Watching Her Beg And Sulk, But Eventually I Always Relented. Her Sticky, Muscly Little Body Thrashed Beside Me Every Night As I Read Anne Sexton, Watched Reruns Of Snl, Sometimes Even As I Slipped My Hand Into My Underwear To Figure Some Stuff Out.