I write about the loss of innocence and what we dare 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 tend to think in metaphor, rhythm, and laterally--valuing wit as much as judgment. I’m an iconoclast who loves theater because it's collaborative and fiction because it's not. (Nonfiction's okay but mostly it helps me figure out what I 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 dad owned a diner for over four decades. 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'm driven by paradox; and because I want to make 50,000 people cry, though not necessarily all at once.