Min Jin Lee

I've often felt like an outsider, not necessarily because I'm Korean, an immigrant, or female. I think writers are odd people.

I moved to Queens, New York, when I was seven and a half. I went to middle school in a foreign country, but I had so many different kinds of Americans push me along and encourage me. I was very odd. I didn't talk very well. We were poor, and we didn't have any connections, but people showed up and pushed me along.

Twenty-five million people who live in North Korea are denied freedom in every respect of their lives. In short, they are hostages. Imagine 25 million hostages.

There's a lot of freedom in failure, and I can see that now.

I think that the shame of being different is very painful for a lot of people.

We're always observing, and we're cautious people. We really want attention, but at the same time, we're ashamed of wanting attention. All those bizarre qualities of being outside are necessary for being a writer.

I find being an adult very difficult. Being an adult artist, Asian American, incredibly difficult. Or trying, anyway.

I have romantic ideas about home and what it should mean.

For me, whatever you write about should be worthy of your attention, worthy of your gifts. That's very important.

We need to recognize how difficult and important being a mother is.

I do have love for Japan. At the same time, I have a complex relationship with Japan because I'm Korean. But I think it shows the strength of a country when you can talk about the past transparently.

People often think of America as a classless society, but, of course, that isn't true. Within immigrant communities, there's an enormous distinction of class, depending on who your parents are, and that kind of thing comes out really quick in things like marriage and interpersonal relationships.