More than a metaphor

‘I’m not talking to you,’ says the book. ‘Whyever not?’ I say. ‘You left,’ the book says. ‘I’m never going…

The wedding speech

‘Where have you been?’ says the book. ‘And good morning to you, too!’ I say. ‘Where have you been?’ the…

An artist needs not so much an audience as to feel a need to answer, a promise to respond.…

Why did I write it down? In order to remember. Of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to…

Is it possible to practice noticing? I think so. But I also think it requires a suspension of yearning and…

‘I’ve lost my nerve,’ says the book. ‘It’s gone, can’t do it any more. I’m done.’ ‘You haven’t of course,…

‘Did you hear?’ says the book. ‘Ted Hughes’s brother has died.’ ‘I did see that, yes,’ I say. ’95, though.…

‘I’ve been out,’ says the book. ‘So I see,’ I say. The book is dressed in a pith helmet and…

‘What are you doing?’ ‘What’s it look like?’ I say. ‘Hanging out the washing,’ the book says. ‘That’s right. I’m…

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and…

Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade away without anyone noticing. One evening in August you have an errand…

‘I need to get away.’ ‘But there’s work to be done,’ says the book. ‘A holiday. That’s what I need.’…

The only real difference between people is not health or illness but the way each holds onto a sense of…

‘Do you miss it?’ the book says. ‘Miss what?’ I say. ‘Having cancer,’ the book says. ‘Is this a joke?’…

It is necessary to write a book in which there will be a little less of the first person singular,…

‘What are you doing?’ the book says. ‘What’s it look like?’ I say. ‘Running a bath,’ the book says. ‘Genius,’…

‘What will you miss most?’ the book says. ‘About what?’ I say. ‘Me,’ says the book. ‘I didn’t know you…

In the last year, another government initiative has created a compulsory part of the curriculum: learning poetry by heart…