Posted on April 16, 2018
Every book is for someone. The act of writing may be a solitary, but it is always a reach toward another person–a single person–since every book is read alone. The writer does not know for whom she writes. The reader’s face is invisible, and yet, every sentence inscribed on a page represents a bid for contact and a hope for understanding.
Posted on March 8, 2018
Writers want love, and they hope that through their work, they will be recognized as gifted. And that is why most writers are so crazy. When a writer gives his editor the pages of his manuscript, or when his book is published, his entire sense of himself is in limbo. Waiting for feedback is like waiting for the results of a biopsy.
Posted on March 7, 2018
There are moments when I positively lose heart. For whom and for what do I write?… Does the public need me or not? I cannot make it out. Write for money? But I never have money, and from the habit of it I am almost indifferent to it. For the sake of money I work poorly.