Went to hear Knausgaard speak about My Struggle. He sat like this:
– so it was a surprise when he turned round at the end to answer questions. Big crowd (they’d moved it from a smaller room).
The fact that people I meet know so much about me is bizarre, so I don’t acknowledge it.
[When he starts writing] It is important for me not to know what I’m going to write about.
I do like to write much more than to be happy.
Like J.K.Rowling, he said he knew the last line of the last book from the time he started writing the first.
On the way back there was a high wind; my bike had an almost-deflated rear tyre; I’d left my yellow reflective thing at a meeting; and the front light’s battery had run out. Any one of these things probably ought to have meant that I pushed the bike home; all four meant that I actually did. The wind brought sleet.
(LED bike lights are wonderfully bright and rechargeable. But I wish they dimmed, telling you they were beginning to run out, like the old ones did. Is there is an indicator light that tells you this that I haven’t noticed?)