Let me tell you one thing about why writers write: had I known the answer to any of these questions I would never have needed to write a novel.

The fear is for what is still to be lost.

Everybody who undergoes a death and finds themselves grieving is obsessed with — or maybe overly focused on — the idea that they can’t display self-pity, they have to be strong. Actually there are a lot of reasons why you are going to feel sorry for yourself, but that’s your first concern.

In terms of work, I never felt that I've done it right. I always want to have done it differently, to have done it better, a different way.

If you are doing a piece about somebody, even if you admire them tremendously and express that in the piece, express that admiration, if they're not used to being written about, if they're civilians, [...] they're not used to seeing themselves through other people's eyes. So you will always see them from a slightly different angle than they see themselves, and they feel a little betrayed by that.

I was no longer, if I had ever been, afraid to die: I was now afraid not to die.

If you aren't aware of the reader, you're working in a vacuum.