Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.
Someone who wants to write should make an effort to write a little something every day. Writing in this sense is the same as athletes who practice a sport every day to keep their skills honed.
Isn’t it strange how life won’t flow, like a river, but moves in jumps, as if it were held back by locks that are opened now and then to let it jump forwards in a kind of flood?
My style of writing is to allow the story to unfold on its own. I try not to structure my work too rigidly.
Do you know anyone who would – secretly, sincerely, in his innermost self – really prefer to return to childhood?
Ever since I could first write I have been doing so. When I was taught how to write and read at school, I made up my mind that this was what I love to do best and this was the world I was going to occupy.
What a sense of possession, of confidence, it gave one to have pockets, to shove one’s fists into them, as if in simply owning pockets one owned riches, owned independence.
When I was very young, I used to share much of what I wrote with my family, but as I got older and more self-conscious, it became a much more private process.