I did begin it, but felt I knew the history too well; felt I didn’t have in interesting voice or enough originality to do justice to ideas lurking in my subconscious. Also about this time I heard Tom Wolfe say to a large audience in Toronto just what I’d been thinking - that unless an author can write what they know with a unique and compelling voice, maybe they should get to know something else. I began reading other people’s histories, and soon longed to know another part o

Sunday night on a long weekend and I'm in my small, dark little room upstairs writing - well, editing to be precise. Now it is 10 PM. and still I'm at it. This must be my zillionth edit and I think I'll never be finished with it. What kind of a life is this? How does one finish a novel, or should the question be: can a writer ever get to the end? Can a writer ever be satisfied with what they've written, and especially with the ending? The answer is probably no. Think of Scott

I started asking, who were the ancient peoples who raced across the Anatolian Plateau over many thousands of years? How did they live? What do today’s populations of Greeks, of Turks – the origins of Turks are complicated already – have in common with them: the Hittites. Assyrians. Phoenicians? If you are a Greek living on the Anatolian Plateau as your ancestors have done from the beginning of time but you are living among Turks, adopting many of their customs, even speaking