Reread, rewrite, reread, rewrite. If it still doesn’t work, throw it away. — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
Mourning Ruby is not a flat landscape: it is more like a box with pictures painted on every face. And each face is also… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
Reread, rewrite, reread, rewrite. If it still doesn't work, throw it away. It's a nice feeling, and you don't want to be cluttered with… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
“The word 'personal' is one of my aversions. Personal loan. Personal hygiene. Personal safety. It's only a way of wrapping up bad news that… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
I can remember being in my pram: children stayed in their prams much longer then than they do now. A big bouncy pram with… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
“Dad was alive. I believed Conor, but I still didn't really know it. But now I do.” — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
A novel, in the end, is a container, a shape which you are trying to pour your story into. — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
“Fear of this order is not an emotion. It is like a virus overwhelming every cell of his body, while his mind struggles to… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
I could start with Mandelstam, who was a huge influence on my early writing. — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
My first collection of poems was published by Bloodaxe Books, which was then a very new imprint. — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
“It seemed to me that there was a self-interest hidden in the core of all of us, which cooled us when we contemplated any… — Helen Dunmore Copy Share Image
