How can you think about the world without factoring in the unforseen, the fluke event?
It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not.
I think all writers are a bit crazy; Damaged souls, incapable of doing anything else.
Dismantling the architecture of my discontent
But lost chances are as much a part of life as chances taken, and a story cannot dwell on what might have been.
I don't read reviews any more, but I'm told by my publisher who gives me an account of what people have been writing and it's been a very split kind of response.