Scientists Do Stand On The Shoulders Of

My Biggest Fear, I Think Falling From A Great Height. If I Want To Keep Myself Awake At Night I Imagine I'm On The Top Of The North Or South Tower In 9/11, Wondering Whether I'm Going To Be Burnt To Death Or I'm Going To Jump. And I Think I Would Burn To Death. And Yet I'm Impressed By The Fact That Hundreds Didn't.

Four Or Five Years - Nothing At All. But No One Over Thirty Could Understand This Peculiarly Weighted And Condensed Time, From Late Teens To Early Twenties, A Stretch Of Life That Needed A Name, From School Leaver To Salaried Professional, With A University And Affairs And Death And Choices In Between. I Had Forgotten How Recent My Childhood Was, How Long And Inescapable It Once Seemed. How Grown Up And How Unchanged I Was.

I Believe The Novella Is The Perfect Form Of Prose Fiction. It Is The Beautiful Daughter Of A Rambling, Bloated Ill-shaven Giant (but A Giant Who's A Genius On His Best Days).

It's Good To Get Your Hands Dirty A Bit And To Test How You See Things At A Given Point. And It's Very Pleasing After Writing Something Like 'atonement' Or 'on Chesil Beach,' Which Are Historical, To Get Involved In Some Plausible Re-enactment Of The Here And Now.

In A Story You Only Had To Wish, You Only Had To Write It Down And You Could Have The World...it Seemed So Obvious Now That It Was Too Late: A Story Was A Form Of Telepathy. By Means Of Inking Symbols Onto A Page, She Was Able To Send Thoughts And Feelings From Her Mind To Her Reader's. It Was A Magical Process, So Commonplace That No One Stopped To Wonder At It. Reading A Sentence And Understanding It Were The Same Thing; As With The Crooking Of A Finger, Nothing Lay Between Them. There Was No Gap During Which The Symbols Were Unraveled.