They Can Keep Their Heaven. When I

I'm Fond Of All My Characters So Every Time One Doesn't Make The Cut I'm A Little Disappointed Although I Understand It.

I Wanted To Write A Big Novel, Something Epic In Scale.

I Feel Satisfaction At The End Of The Day When I've Written A Scene That I Really Like Or When I Write A Good Line Of Dialogue That I Read Out To My Wife Or Something Like That. But There's Also Days Where It's Just Bloody Agony And I Go, 'ugh, This Is Such Crap! Why Did I Think I Had Any Talent?

Can They Love Without A Word For It?

My Dreams Are The Usual Incoherent Nonsense. Like Most Writers, At Some Point In My Career I Thought, Well, I Have These Great Dreams But I Always Forget Them In The Morning So I’ll Leave A Pad On My Bedside Table So I Can Write It Down, And Then You Have Some Incredible Dream And You Write It Down And The Next Morning You Wake Up And You’ve Written ‘purple Socks’.