I Like To Write About Certain Things

Lots Of Scripts Are Written And Not Made, Even Scripts That People Want To Make.

You Would Have To Be Very Optimistic To Think That Any Of Your Books Will Be Among The Books That Survive In The Very Long Run. I Think If A Writer Is Lucky Enough To Still Have A Few Books Around After He's Gone, A Few That Are Still Being Read, Then He's Accomplished Quite A Lot.

We Dash The Black River, Its Flats Smooth As Stone. Not A Ship, Not A Dinghy, Not One Cry Of White. The Water Lies Broken, Cracked From The Wind. This Great Estuary Is Wide, Endless. The River Is Brackish, Blue With The Cold. It Passes Beneath Us Blurring. The Sea Birds Hang Above It, They Wheel, Disappear. We Flash The Wide River, A Dream Of The Past. The Deeps Fall Behind, The Bottom Is Paling The Surface, We Rush By The Shallows, Boats Beached For Winter, Desolate Piers. And On Wings Like The Gulls, Soar Up, Turn, Look Back.

It's Tremendous: This World, This Life. Take It While You Have It.

You Write For Glory. You Play For Glory. There's An Ambition To Excel, Isn't There, To Be A Star? To Score More, To Do More, Even When It's A Team Sport. So I Think Striving For Glory Is A Natural Subject For A Writer. Seeking Fame.