Desperate? So what? I'm desperate, too!" Fenoglio snapped at her. "My story is foundering in misfortune, and these hands here," he said holding them out to her, "don't want to write anymore! I'm afraid of words Meggie! 'Once they were like honey, now they're poison, pure poison! But what is a writer who doesn't love words anymore? What have I come to? This story is devouring me, crushing me, and I'm it's creator!
Cornelia FunkeI live in Hamburg; that's in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.
Cornelia FunkeAnd I always read the English translation and always have conversations with my translator, for example about the names. I always have to approve it.
Cornelia Funke