Mental drawers


In Belgrade, April 2015

At the moment, I don’t have much control over what I will be writing in the next few months. I am not complaining: it is one of those situations that authors actually like, no matter how much they grumble. There is an essay on Leonard Cohen I am working on, and before that there is a personal story of the man who entered the UK hidden in a truck, after almost losing his life on a ship sailing to Lampedusa. And there is a non-fiction project, a major project I’m working on. The only real problem I can see in all this is that it is sometimes difficult to keep the projects in their own mental space. Sometimes Lili Marlene wants to board the ship, whose captain is not very good in triangulation, and…