Every writer has a file, a drawer or a cupboard of unfinished or unpublished books. After going through his own dusty box file, Rupert Christiansen considers the classic novels that once lived as ‘zombies’ — and finds new hope that his own may yet come to life.
Writer's block has become a cliché of Grub Street patois. At best it's lazy terminology, at worst, a poor excuse for failing to put bum on seat. Yet it has pedigree: Woolf, Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Larkin all suffered it, and now Rupert Christiansen has the contagion. But the experience is very far from what he expected.