Honest Criticism, I Suppose, Has Its Place.

For Me, A Novel Is Always The Result Of My Attempt To Impose Myself On Raw Circumstances. It Is A Concrete Form Of Lived Experience.

Help Is Dangerous Because It Exists Outside The Human Economy: The Only Payment For Help Is Gratitude.

I Think A Lot Of Artists No Longer Want To Participate In Or Be Associated With Narrative Because Of Its Corruptedness In Contemporary Culture.

Society In The English Countryside Is Still Strangely, Quaintly Divided. If Black Comedy And A Certain Type Of Social Commentary Are What You Want, I Think English Rural Communities Offer Quite A Lot Of Material.

The Creativity Of Childhood Was Often Surrendered Amid Feelings Of Unworthiness. So The Idea That ­others Are Demanding To Be Given It Back - To Be "taught" - Is Disturbing.