Reflections of a working writer and reader
The life that produces writing can't be written about. It is a life carried on without the knowledge even of the writer, below the mind's business and noise, in deep unlit shafts where phantom messengers struggle towards us, killing one another along the way; and when a few survivors break through to our attention they are received as blandly as waiters bringing more coffee. Tobias Wolff
My fellow panellists at the recent Left Coast Crime event in Bristol, feeling that they couldn’t manage without me, built a likeness from paper and rag. Apparently it fooled the audience, though one or two people in the signing queue did a double-take.
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