![]() ![]() I hugely enjoy them, but somehow always run out of steam. I have to confess that I’ve never finished a single Dickens. The steady clarity of her eye as it looks on suffering is profoundly moving. I probably last snivelled over Anna Akhmatova. ![]() I’m stony-hearted when it comes to prose, but poetry can sometimes stab me into weeping. ![]() On the other hand, books cumulatively keep your mind evolving, and teach you that the world isn’t made in your own image. On the other hand, why are there no public shrines to Two Serious Ladies by Jane Bowles?īig tectonic mind-shifts because of a book? I wish it happened that way. No need to focus on a specific title, but I don’t comprehend the fuss about Haruki Murakami. It could shake up everything you knew and make you see things differently. It was the first time I understood, viscerally, that writing didn’t have to soothe and entertain you. I just knew that the main character, a little boy called Lexington, was me, and that his terrible fate was mine too. After reading “Pig”, the world never looked the same. He got into trouble for it, but I’ll be forever grateful. When I was 12, an unusual English teacher introduced our class to some of the dark stories in Kiss Kiss and Someone Like You. ![]() Not a book, but a Roald Dahl short story. The book that had the greatest influence on my writing ![]()
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