Writing is physical for me. I always have the sense that the words are coming out of my body, not just my mind.

I've just finished reading Reality Hunger and I'm lit up by it-astonished, intoxicated, ecstatic, overwhelmed. . . . It really is an urgent book: a piece of art-making itself, a sublime, exciting, outrageous, visionary volume.

Writing is physical for me. I always have the sense that the words are coming out of my body, not just my mind.

Waves, sky, trees, Essrog - I was off the page now, away from the grammar of skyscrapers and pavement.

As much as I revere great writing, and am still humbled by it, literary activities are no longer esoteric to me. When I read a great novel - something that I could never have written myself - I'm still looking at it a little bit like a technician.

I tend to think of myself as a highly emotional writer. It's all coming out of the deepest feelings, out of dreams, out of the unconscious.

I'm not planning what I listen to, except when I think the music can guide me to some emotional place I want to be reminded of.