This New Yorker article made me smile, as I recognised myself in many of the traits of what it means to be a writer.
I particularly related to, ‘The lines blur between the Writer and the characters he creates on the page. At times, he is unsure where his life stops and theirs begins.‘
I sometimes wonder whether my characters are haunting me—or am I haunting them, by blundering onto the pages of the story I’m creating to direct their actions? We follow one another around, that’s for sure.