{"id":694,"date":"2018-05-01T14:50:10","date_gmt":"2018-05-01T14:50:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thearmchairkitchen.com\/?page_id=694"},"modified":"2018-05-01T14:05:17","modified_gmt":"2018-05-01T14:05:17","slug":"whats-new","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/thearmchairkitchen.com\/whats-new\/","title":{"rendered":"What’s New?"},"content":{"rendered":"
1st May 2018<\/strong><\/p>\n Michael Chabon is an American novelist and short story writer. Before his first book was published he had an encounter with an older, successful writer who gave him some unsettling advice.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t have children. Each one represents a novel you\u2019ll never publish. You can write great books or you can have kids. Children are notorious thieves of time. Don\u2019t stay in one place; you need to keep moving, always onward. Travel is a must.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Chabon was about to get married and was naturally highly concerned at what he had just heard. In the event, he divorced his first wife, married again and then had four children, ignoring the painful advice he had been given many years earlier.<\/p>\n In a recent interview Chabon talks about the decision he made. \u201cWriters need to be free of everything but the writing, free of commitments to everything but the daily word count. Children, by contrast, need stability, consistency, routine and above all, commitment. In short they are the opposite of writing.\u201d<\/p>\n He goes on to say \u201cIf I\u2019d followed the great man\u2019s advice and never burdened myself with the gift of my children, or if I\u2019d never written any novels at all, in the long run the result would have been the same as the result will be for me here. Having made the choices I made, I will die and the world in its violence and serenity will roll on, through the endless indifference of space. It will consign to oblivion all but a scant few of the thousands upon thousands of novels and short stories written and published during our lifetimes. If none of my books turns out to be among that bright remnant because I allowed my children to steal my time, narrow my compass, and curtail my freedom, I\u2019m all right with that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnce they are written, my books, unlike my children, hold no wonder for me; no mystery resides in them. Unlike my children, my books are cruelly unforgiving of my weaknesses, failings and flaws of character. Most of all, unlike my children, my books do not love me back.\u201d<\/p>\n