RY: You mentioned it’s difficult and frightening to have a novel out in the world. For those of us who might one day write a novel, can you give us a heads up about what those terrifying things might be? I mean, I can imagine…

JD: Yeah, just pretty much what you’d imagine. There’s not a secret hazing ritual you don’t hear about. Just the ones you do! I think what’s challenging, though it can also be weirdly comforting, is that so much of a book’s fortunes hinge on pure luck. I had strokes of both good luck and bad, and what was common to both experiences was I was very aware of how easily things could have been otherwise. So often, enormous opportunities really do come down to one particular individual either responding or not responding to your book, which can make disappointments and successes, both, feel a bit arbitrary. But I think that’s where focusing on the consolation of writing itself is so important. If you realize the reason you write is to write—and that everything else is secondary—then your sense of meaning in what you’re doing becomes much less contingent on, and a lot less vulnerable to, factors beyond your control.

RY: A ‘wag’ is a sort of wit, a merry, droll jokester. Who is your favorite wag—from your life, history, or literature—and why?

JB: I watched a lot of comedy as an adolescent, instead of gaining competence in a sport or dating, and Andy Kaufman was probably my favorite. So much of what he did—particularly in terms of his relationship to his audience’s sense of reality and level of discomfort—is really embedded in contemporary ideas of what’s funny, but he did it so early, and with such extravagant commitment. I also love The Kids in the Hall—we should all strive to be so cheerfully absurd in life. And, like everyone else in the country, my heart basically beats for Tina Fey.