Tag Archives: George Eliot

formative fiction

Most writers can reel off a handful of titles of books they’d call formative, typically read for the first time during their teens. One of mine is Wuthering Heights (1847) by Emily Brontë, a classic of incomparable passion despite no … Continue reading

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Is ignorance bliss or is it just empty space? – the case for reading

In a running dispute between a talented writer friend and myself, concerning the friend’s lack of interest in others’ fiction, my case goes something like this: Of the large volume of unpublished fiction I regularly see, the least original work … Continue reading

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