A City Like London Was

The Problem With Most Genre Fantasy Is That It's Not Nearly Fantastic Enough. It's Escapist, But It Can't Escape.

If You're Brave Enough To Try, You Might Be Able To Catch A Train From Unlondon To Parisn't, Or No York, Or Helsunki, Or Lost Angeles, Or Sans Francisco, Or Hong Gone, Or Romeless.

A City Like London Was Always Going To Be A Paradox, The Best Of It So Very Riddled With The Opposite, So Swiss-cheesed With Moral Holes.

Every Book I Write, The First Thing I Have To Do Is Get Into The Voice, And The Voice Varies From Book To Book - That's Part Of What's Interesting To Me.

Perhaps The Window Is Not A Sun But An Asterisk, Interrupting The Grammar Of The Sky, With Me Sitting Below It Like A Footnote.