Philip Caveney – Why I Write
My version culminated in Attila and the Pope having a duel to the death outside the gates of Rome; as…
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My version culminated in Attila and the Pope having a duel to the death outside the gates of Rome; as…
You’re a man now lad, you’ve got to be strong for your mother. So that’s what I did. I stood…
Except for the supremely confident, the arrogant and the self-deluded, writing is an unsatisfactory occupation of wickedly high highs and…
As I sulked around chilly convent corridors, I imagined that a writing life would be all late rising and escaping…
It’s a messy process too. Full of delight and verve and sparkle, as well as failure, submission, defeat.
I hunched over my desk and read photocopies of novels; the photocopies passing for law reports.
I write non-fiction now. I reckon it’s still the best way to affect what other people think, to add to…
Sometimes it’s exciting, and I wish the British Library had a room where you could roar with delight when an…
One way or another I’ve always contrived to do some writing; it’s become a habit.
A shy child, I particularly liked the idea that your fame was concentrated in those letters on the cover. You…
In those days only one in a thousand aspiring authors ever actually made it into print, and I felt I…
To meet Venus; to disobey; to step inside the doll’s house; to row across the river Styx; to find a…