As a writer, I'm more interested in what people tell themselves happened rather than what actually happened.

I quizzed him a lot on this point and i suspect the truth was that it was like a lot of things at that age: you don't have any clear reason, you just do it. You do it because you think it might get a laugh, or because you want to see if it'll cause a stir. And when you're asked to explain afterwards, it doesn't seem to make any sense.

Throughout my career I've struggled to encourage people to read my books on a more metaphorical level. I'm less attached to my settings than, for example, Saul Bellow. The setting of a novel for me is just a part of the technique. I choose it at the end.

We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.

I wouldn't want to try to adapt something of my own. It would be like going back to school and doing all my exams again.

It was like there was some parallel universe we all vanished off to where we had all this sex.

I don't think it's any fun, even if you are one of the most respected authors in the world like Margaret Atwood, to keep being nominated and not win.