I write about the loss of innocence and what we do to recover it; about families, intentional or accidental, and how their members damage and rebuild the fragile ecosystem of one another's relationships and dreams; and about grief, particularly from a comic point of view. I admire stylists, and whether tend to think in metaphor, rhythm, laterally--valuing wit as much as judgment. I’m an iconoclast who loves theater because it's collaborative and fiction because it's not. (I don't love nonfiction but it's a way of helping me think, so I write that too.)

My view of landscape and light, and hence of human relations, was formed by having grown up in the Adirondack Mountains, where my parents often enjoined me to “write for the common man,” by which they meant themselves. I think I turned to theater because I like the rhythms of everyday speech as much as the high eloquence of the aroused heart; because I too am driven by paradox; and because I want to make 50,000 people cry, though not necessarily all at once.  Henry Adams reminded us (I paraphrase) that if we reach the right 500 we will reach the right 50,000.