Blast from the Past

Ah, the irony. The above picture was sent to me this morning by a friend of ours who lives in our old neighborhood of Islington in London.  This is the front table of Border’s bookstore, which was a regular haunt of ours when we lived there.  The store, I understand from book trade sources (thanks, Ralph), is about to close. …

OK, so now what?

It’s an obvious enough question. I still woke up at 5 o’clock this morning, even though I’ve no more book to write. Here I am, twiddling my thumbs, and finally doing some blogging. (Whether that’s a good thing or not is open to debate.) Well, here’s what going to happen next: I’m going to spend the long weekend with my …

Eureka!

Today was kind of a big day for me and my little ole book. I’ve spent more than three years on this baby, painfully cranking out the 130,000-odd words that constitute my fifth novel, whose working title is Paradise.  (5 second pitch: “Absolom Absolom meets The Sound of Music.”)  And all this time, I’ve been wondering: how on earth am …