|—||Lauren Weisberger (via writeworld)|
Literary Birthday - 31 March
Happy Birthday, John Fowles, born 31 March 1926, died 5 November 2005
Top 12 John Fowles Quotes
- There are only two races on this planet - the intelligent and the stupid.
- There comes a time in each life like a point of fulcrum. At that time you must accept yourself. It is not any more what you will become. It is what you are and always will be.
- The most important questions in life can never be answered by anyone except oneself.
- We all write poems; it is simply that poets are the ones who write in words.
- You may think novelists always have fixed plans to which they work, so that the future predicted by Chapter One is always inexorably the actuality of Chapter Thirteen. But novelists write for countless different reasons: for money, for fame, for reviewers, for parents, for friends, for loved ones; for vanity, for pride, for curiosity, for amusement: as skilled furniture makers enjoy making furniture, as drunkards like drinking, as judges like judging, as Sicilians like emptying a shotgun into an enemy’s back. I could fill a book with reasons, and they would all be true, though not true of all. Only one same reason is shared by all of us: we wish to create worlds as real as, but other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a world is an organism, not a machine.
- There are many reasons why novelists write, but they all have one thing in common - a need to create an alternative world.
- That was the tragedy. Not that one man had the courage to be evil. But that millions had not the courage to be good.
- Wealth is a monster. It takes a month to learn to control it financially. And many years to learn to control it psychologically.
- I think all the arts draw on a nostalgia or longing for a better world—at root a better metaphysical condition—than the one that is. Self-destructive, I don’t know, but certainly we are all victims of some form of manic depression. That is the price of being what we are. I would never choose—even if I could!—to be a more “normal” human being; I would never choose something without that emotional cost, severe though it can become.
- Writing novels is a time-consuming, psyche-consuming business. I mean I don’t think a good teacher actually would be likely to write good novels.
- What interests me about novelists as a species is the obsessiveness of the activity, the fact that novelists have to go on writing. I think that probably must come from a sense of the irrecoverable. In every novelist’s life there is some more acute sense of loss than with other people, and I suppose I must have felt that. I didn’t realize it, I suppose, till the last ten or fifteen years. In fact you have to write novels to begin to understand this. There’s a kind of backwardness in the novel…an attempt to get back to a lost world.
- If a novelist isn’t in exile I suspect he’d be in trouble.
Fowles was an English novelist influenced by both Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus. He is best known for The Magus and The French Lieutenant’s Woman. Fowles was named by The Times newspaper as one of the 50 greatest British writers since 1945.
Source for Image
Interview with Michael Farris Smith, author of RIVERS.
In the tradition of Cormac McCarthy, Larry Brown, and James Lee Burke, Rivers is an enthralling, darkly beautiful novel set in Mississippi against the backdrop of a series of devastating storms that pummeled the American South in the years since Hurricane Katrina.
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”
—The Raven (1844), Edgar Allan Poe
Here’s to the crazies among us.
The Paradise of the Library: James Salter on Jacques Bonnet’s 40,000 volume personal library, and his new book “Phantoms on the Bookshelves”: http://nyr.kr/Pqz8oc
A tide is coming in and the kingdom of books, with their white pages and endpapers, their promise of solitude and discovery, is in danger, after an existence of five hundred years, of being washed away. The physical possession of a book may become of little significance. Access to it will be what matters, and when the book is closed, so to speak, it will disappear into the cyber. It will be like the genie—summonable but unreal. Bonnet’s private library, however, comprised of more than forty thousand volumes, is utterly real.
|—||Susan Hill, Howards End Is on the Landing: A Year of Reading from Home (via cystallineambermoments)|
|—||Joe R. Lansdale, Doggone Justice|