I'm afraid that surprise, shock, and regret is the fate of authors when they finally see themselves on the page.
There are scenes from books I'm happy with. I tend to think my books are all broken. But then my favourite reads are almost always books that don't, in the end, pull off what they set out to do.
I came to the conclusion that I am not a fiction writer.
If I could do what Hilary Mantel does, I would probably do that. She is more intelligent and a better researcher and knows more what she's about than I do.
I don't think I'm a natural novelist. Plot is definitely one of my weaker points. I've been working on it a long time, and it's not getting much better.
I always worry I've probably written one too many Bernie Gunther books and that I should probably give him his gold watch.
I do ask myself sometimes, what am I doing writing about animals that talk like we do? But I guess it's okay if it brings across a point.
It feels wonderful to get praise from other authors who I admire, but with each new book, my confidence is always the thing I struggle with the most until I start getting positive feedback from readers.
I have a couple of thick files about things that have gone wrong between people; I ought to write about them in the manner of a thriller. It would finally convince me that I was a real writer.
I wish I could go back and re-write my first novel for the first time. Because I really didn't know what I was doing, and although it was published, it is, after all this time, kind of an embarrassment.
I didn't know I was really a writer until I read it in the New York Times. And then I thought, "Oh my god, maybe I can really do this". That was a review of "Margaret."
My last book was speculative. I just don't quite know what I am doing. But I'll get there. I have a list of things I would love to write.
