Colm Tóibín

And the more you postpone, the better.

Eventually you have to pounce, of course, you just pounce on the thing and finish it.

But it's almost like being a sort of, I suppose, a cat looking for a mouse, that you have to be very quiet and very patient and very watchful, and then you have to pounce.

Yeah, that I would have them all in my mind.

And no, it's not like having children.

There's no point in a bloke telling you, oh my, having writing stories is like having a baby.

I know nothing about having babies.

And even if I did, I know it's not like writing a story.

But yeah, someone tells you something.

I mean, I'll give you an example of this.

There was a historian of the Spanish Civil War, and I went to see him to interview him about something else.

And he told me that he had invited a general from the Franco side, from the fascist side, to come back to Catalonia, where the fascists were never welcome, and show him where various things had taken place.

And as they were walking in the streets of this village, which had been a left-wing village during the war, he met a woman on the street, an ordinary woman who was shopping.

These people are both in their 70s now.

and the civil war is 50, 55 years over.

And the man recognizes the woman and stops and says, hey, hello, hey, what's going on?

And they knew one another for that summer of 1938, where there were parties every night, where the fascist soldiers had taken over the town and people thought they might've been in barracks all the time, but it was the summer, they were southerners.

They actually wanted to drink and dance and meet girls and do all that.

And they had an affair that summer, but she'd never told anyone.

And, you know, when he told me the story, I realized, don't tell me, don't tell me anymore.