You Learn A Lot, Writing Fiction.

Every Novel Generates Its Own Climate, When You Get Going.

You Have This Comet Trail Of Your Own Lived Life, Sparks From Which Arrive In The Head All The Time, Whether You Want Them Or Not - Life Has Been Lived But It Is Still All Going On, In The Mind For Better And For Worse.

It Seems To Me That Everything That Happens To Us Is A Disconcerting Mix Of Choice And Contingency.

I'm Writing Another Novel And I Know What I'm Going To Do After, Which May Be Something More Like This Again, Maybe Some Strange Mixture Of Fiction And Non-fiction.

I've Always Been Fascinated By The Operation Of Memory - The Way In Which It Is Not Linear But Fragmented, And Its Ambivalence.