When you're writing, it's as if you're within a kind of closed world.
That's Anil's path. She grows up in Sri Lanka, goes and gets educated abroad, and through fate or chance gets brought back by the Human Rights Commission to investigate war crimes.
In the book the relationship with Katharine and Almasy is sort of only in the patient's mind.
It doubles your perception, to write from the point of view of someone you're not.
It's a discovery of a story when I write a book, a case of inching ahead on each page and discovering what's beyond in the darkness, beyond where you're writing.
It's a responsibility of the writer to get the reader out of the story somehow.
It's an odd state to be in, blowing the whistle on your home country.
Right now, I have no idea what I will write or if I will write again.
I see the poem or the novel ending with an open door.
The first sentence of every novel should be: Trust me, this will take time but there is order here, very faint, very human. Meander if you want to get to town.
The last three books are much more a case of a moment of history, what happened almost by accident or coincidence, like being in the same elevator or lifeboat.
The past is still, for us, a place that is not safely settled.
Truth, at the wrong time, can be dangerous.
You don't want to write your own opinion, you don't want to just represent yourself, but represent yourself through someone else.
You want to suggest something new, but at the same time, resolve the drama of the action in the novel.