I keep trying to remind myself that the things I worry about are largely a luxury, fillers in a life that has always been entirely devoid of the effects of civil war, hunger or poverty - not that I think it's particularly helpful to suggest that everyone's problems are all trivial just because they have... Continue Reading →
The problem with not working
The less busy I am, the less I take time to write. I spend hours thinking about what I would write, lying in bed when I wake up and excitedly thinking, "yes, that's it, that's exactly what sums up what was bad about Oblivion, I'll write that". Or thinking about more serious topics that I... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 