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Writing is often measured in words. This is understandable. Words can be counted. They sit politely on the page and allow software to produce a number at the bottom of the screen. Numbers are comforting. They suggest progress. Unfortunately, writing has very little respect for comfort. I have spent entire evenings producing three hundred words. … Read more

Ideas are generous. They arrive without schedules. They require no organisation. An idea can appear while walking, travelling, waiting for coffee, or attempting to listen politely to someone while thinking about something completely unrelated. Ideas do not ask whether you have time. This is part of their charm. Work is less charming. There comes a … Read more

There is a particular kind of quiet at the end of a year. It has very little to do with silence. The world remains noisy. Trains continue to arrive. Coffee machines continue their important work. Someone, somewhere, is still answering an email that could have waited until January. Life has never shown much respect for … Read more

I like endings. This is unfortunate, because they cause a great deal of trouble. An ending gives a story direction. It tells the writer where the road eventually leads, which can be comforting when the middle of the book has become a small independent country with its own laws and border control. Knowing the ending … Read more

I have never been particularly good at creating one character. I try. I sit down with a notebook and think about a person. Who are they? What do they want? Where have they been? A sensible process. Then someone else appears. Usually without permission. Perhaps the first character mentions a friend. Or avoids mentioning one. … Read more

Silence is not universal. This surprised me. I used to think silence was simply the absence of sound. A useful theory, ruined almost immediately by listening. A quiet street in London does not sound like a quiet street in New York. Prague has its own silence. So do railway stations, hotel corridors, libraries, and cafés … Read more

I like not knowing things. This is useful, because there are a great many things I do not know. Some of them are important. Others involve the correct way to fold a fitted sheet. I have accepted that certain questions may remain unanswered. In stories, however, not knowing is complicated. There is a difference between … Read more

Perfect characters make me nervous. Not because I expect them to do something terrible. Although, in fiction, that is usually a reasonable precaution. They make me nervous because perfection requires an exhausting amount of maintenance. A person who always knows what to say must never hesitate. A person who is always brave must never look … Read more

Cities remember things their inhabitants have forgotten. Not in the way people remember. A city does not sit quietly in the evening and think about the past. At least, I hope not. There are enough people doing that already. Cities remember through repetition. A doorway used by thousands of people becomes worn in a particular … Read more

I always notice where people choose to sit. This is not a particularly useful habit. It has never helped me find a better table, receive faster service, or understand why the person beside me ordered something that appears to require structural engineering to eat. Still, I notice. Some people sit facing the window. They want … Read more