Jon McGregor
Jon McGregor
Jon McGregoris a British novelist and short story writer. In 2002, his first novel was longlisted for the Booker Prize as its youngest contender. His second novel was longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2006. In 2012, his third novel was awarded the International Dublin Literary Award. The New York Times has labelled him a "wicked British writer"...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionNovelist
cities world complicated
The whole city stopped - And this is a pause worth savouring, because the world will soon be complicated again.
people world losing
People seem to be losing their sense of boundaries more and more, what people are willing to put up on the internet, especially blogs. People seem to assume that only their friends are going to read it but anyone in the world could read it at any time.
drift forced taking
It would have been very easy to drift into writing a non-fiction book so by taking it away from Nottingham I forced myself to imagine much more of it.
book embarrassing bits
Now that I've had a book published, it is quite validating, but a bit embarrassing.
night lasts connections
I'm surprised, but I'm glad, I realise that this is what i wanted that night last week, to simply make a connection and keep hold of it.
creativity years people
It takes a lot of energy and creativity to make such screwed up lives carry on. And the kind of will people have to survive, year after year, dealing with that stuff, is weirdly impressive.
needs situation
Everybodys got their own situation and their own needs.
speech speak remarkable
If nobody speaks of remarkable things, how can they be called remarkable?
firsts lasts week
Last week I was just someone who had had a first novel published.
knuckles saws paper
I once saw a picture in the paper of John Hegley with 'poet' written on his knuckles, and I thought that was pretty cool, so I was quite up front about it.
laughter home eye
there are only these: sparkling eyes, smudged lipstick, fading starlight, the crunching of feet on gravel, laughter, and a slow walk home.
names doors people
There are so many people in the world, and I want to know them all but I don’t even know my next-door neighbor’s name.
wall memories thinking
He thinks about her, at this moment, in her house, a few thin walls away, packing her life into boxes and bags and he wonders what memories she is rediscovering, what thoughts are catching in her mouth like the dust blown from unused textbooks. He wonders if she has buried any traces of herself under her floorboards. He wonders what those traces would be if she had. And he wonders again why he thinks about her so much when he knows so little to think about.
mother daughter thinking
I wonder how many ways there are for a mother to produce that wreckage in her own daughter, and my muscles tense as I think of them.