‘The Art Student’s War’ is, at its core, a traditional American wartime love story. As such, it is timely and engrossing. By the end, all its principal characters ‘have been to Hell and back.’
If I don’t write down a thought – or an image or a line of poetry – the instant it comes to mind, it vanishes, which explains why I have pens and notebooks in my pants and coat pockets, the car, the bicycle basket, on one or two desks in every room including bathrooms and the kitchen.
Most people imagine music playing in their heads, but some hallucinate music; some cannot sleep because of the soundtrack in their mind.
I’m a writer who simply can’t know what I’m writing about until the writing lets me discover it. In a sense, my writing process embraces the gapped nature of my memory process, leaping across spaces that represent all I’ve lost and establishing fresh patterns within all that remains.
Irish novelist John Banville has a creepy, introverted imagination.
I think one of the primary themes in my work is the paradox of memory, at once fundamental to our sense of who we are and yet elusive, ever-changing, fragmentary. One way to look at this is to say that, therefore, we ourselves are elusive, ever-changing and fragmentary to ourselves.
Eliza Factor’s first novel, ‘The Mercury Fountain,’ explores what happens when a life driven by ideology confronts implacable truths of science and human nature. It also shows how leaders can inflict damage by neglecting the real needs of real people.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to remember. I’ve lost the mindless confidence that a moment, an idea, a thought will be there for me later, the bravado of breezing through experience in the certainty that it will become part of my self, part of my story.
I feel that I’m a poet first. Not only was poetry the first genre in which I wrote, it’s the genre that serves as the basis for my practice as a writer.
Flannery O’Connor’s brief life and slim output were nonetheless marked by piercing powers of observation.