wildlives

wildlives

In Wildlives, Quebecois author Monique Proulx creates a magical world out of the stuff of our world. Memory, silence, flowers, summertime, the lake–everything is alive. “The lake rose and fell and murmured beneath his paddle like a primitive animal mass, then...
a room with a view

a room with a view

So the logical, orderly side of me  is distressed that I haven’t better organized this trilogy of posts–my writing room, the writer’s desk, and today, a room with a view. Instead it’s the writer’s side of me that has let one thing lead to...
the writer’s desk

the writer’s desk

In a comment to yesterday’s post, a reader reminded me of Jill Krementz’ photographs in The Writer’s Desk, which was published in 1996, the same year as Infinite Jest, and is now out of print. I had forgotten all about this book. I pulled it off the...
my writing room

my writing room

The Guardian has for some time been doing a series on writers’ rooms.  The most recent piece featured Michael Morpurgo: “For many years, I wrote on our bed in the house. But there were complaints about ink on the sheets, dirty feet on the bed…”...