The Evening's The Best Part Of The

What He Wanted Was Not Just To Hear About Hailsham, But To Remember Hailsham, Just Like It Had Been His Own Childhood. He Knew He Was Close To Completing And So That's What He Was Doing: Getting Me To Describe Things To Him, So They'd Really Sink In, So That Maybe During Those Sleepless Nights, With The Drugs And The Paint And The Exhaustion, The Line Would Blur Between What Were My Memories And What Were His.

Our Family Arrived In England In 1960. At That Time I Thought The War Was Ancient History. But If I Think Of 15 Years Ago From Now, Thats 1990, And That Seems Like Yesterday To Me.

It Was Like There Was Some Parallel Universe We All Vanished Off To Where We Had All This Sex.

Typically In My Novels The Narrator Tells A Story By Remembering, And The Memories Are Colored By This And Colored By That. So The Whole Universe Of The Novel Tends To Be Framed By The Narrator's Memories And Thoughts.

Memory Is Quite Central For Me. Part Of It Is That I Like The Actual Texture Of Writing Through Memory.