Wars Are Fought By Children.

Unless I Am A Part Of Everything I Am Nothing.

The Present Hardly Exists, After All-it Becomes The Past Even As It Happens. A Tricky Medium, Time - And Central To The Concerns Of Fiction.

I Rather Like Getting Away From Fiction.

But Who Knows Their Own Child? You Know Bits - Certain Predictable Reactions, A Handful Of Familiar Qualities. The Rest Is Impenetrable. And Quite Right Too. You Give Birth To Them. You Do Not Design Them.

I'm Not An Historian And I'm Not Wanting To Write About How I Perceive The Social Change Over The Century As A Historian, But As Somebody Who's Walked Through It And Whose Life Has Been Dictated By It Too, As All Our Lives Are.