You know, now it's sinking in. It's taken me a long time to realize - and it is sinking in - how important this book is. And I have a certain distance now. I've done it such a long time ago.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I think you get so wrapped up in the book you're currently writing, it's hard to think about anything else. But I know as soon as I'm done with this book, I'll move on to something else.
When you read a great book, you don't escape from life, you plunge deeper into it.
I got done writing Ports of Call and suddenly realized I have far too much material for the book.
Another thing I learned is that novels, even those from apparently distant times and places, remain current and enlightening, and also comforting.
Writing a book is a very lonely business. You are totally cut off from the rest of the world, submerged in your obsessions and memories.
I just have to proceed as usual. No matter what happens, nothing helps with the writing of the next book.
I will write another book if I feel like it.
The book may be garbage, but if it weighs in at a kilo or more, I stand before its author in awe.
Today our books are numberless, and one man cannot master them in a lifetime. Now that the sea-waves are dashing upon our shores, unless we keep pace with the times and acquire Western learning, we shall be left in the lurch.
I just wrote the book and was amazed and astounded that it became a bestseller and won the Pulitzer Prize. It still hasn't sunk in.