"Most crime fiction, no matter how 'hard-boiled' or bloodily forensic, is essentially sentimental, fo..." — John Banville

I'm a hopeless 19th-century romantic.

For memory, we use our imagination. We take a few strands of real time and carry them with us, then like an oyster we create a pearl around them.

I suppose it's possible that a writer would have feeling for his characters, but I can't see how, because writing is such a meticulous, intricate, technical business. I wish I could say that I love my characters and that frequently they take over the book and run away with the plot and so on. But they don't exist.