“If I were an archaeologist, digging through the layers of old paper that mark the eras in my life as a writer, I’d have found, at the lowest or Stone Age level – say around ages five to seven – a few poems and stories, unremarkable precursors of all my frenetic later scribbling…. After that there’s a great blank. For eight years, I simply didn’t write. Then, suddenly, and with no missing links in between, there’s a wad of manuscripts. One week I wasn’t a writer, the next I was. Who did I think I was, to be able to get away with this? What did I think I was doing? How did I get that way? To these questions I still have no answers.”
-- Margaret Atwood –
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