When I'm writing, I am concentrating almost wholly on concrete detail: the color a room is painted, the way a drop of water rolls off a wet leaf after a rain.
Taking on challenging projects is the way that one grows and extends one's range as a writer, one's technical command, so I consider the time well-spent.
Children love secret club houses. They love secrecy even when there's no need for secrecy.
Everything takes me longer than I expect. It's the sad truth about life.
Sometimes you can do all the right things and not succeed. And that's a hard lesson of reality.
The job of the novelist is to invent: to embroider, to color, to embellish, to make things up.
Storytelling and elegant style don't always go hand in hand.
The books I loved in childhood - the first loves - I've read so often that I've internalized them in some really essential way: they are more inside me now than out.
I love the tradition of Dickens, where even the most minor walk-on characters are twitching and particular and alive.
The storytelling gift is innate: one has it or one doesn't. But style is at least partly a learned thing: one refines it by looking and listening and reading and practice - by work.
I think it's hard to write about children and to have an idea of innocence.
But romantic vision can also lead one away from certain very hard, ugly truths about life that are important to know.
I'm not sure whay I've been drawn to this subject, except that murder is a subject that has always drawn people for as long as people have been telling stories.
But it's for every writer to decide his own pace, and the pace varies with the writer and the work.
I think innocence is something that adults project upon children that's not really there.
For un-subscribe please check the mail footer.