In A Whisper He Began

Writing Is My Way Of Expressing - And Thereby Eliminating - All The Various Ways We Can Be Wrong-headed.

I'm Always Interested In The Way People Speak And Move In Their Environment, In A Very Particular Environment. I'm Never Interested In Writing A Kind Of Neutral, Universal Novel That Could Be Set Anywhere. To Me, The Any Novel Is A Local Thing Always.

Desperation, Weakness, Vulnerability - These Things Will Always Be Exploited. You Need To Protect The Weak, Ring-fence Them, With Something Far Stronger Than Empathy.

Then He Gave Her A Kiss On The Forehead That Felt Like A Baptism And She Wept Like A Baby.

This, After All, Was The Month In Which Families Began Tightening And Closing And Sealing; From Thanksgiving To The New Year, Everybody's World Contracted, Day By Day, Into The Microcosmic Single Festive Household, Each With Its Own Rituals And Obsessions, Rules And Dreams. You Didn't Feel You Could Call People. They Didn't Feel They Could Phone You. How Does One Cry For Help From These Seasonal Prisons?