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At length, when I considered it, I realized that the best of my actions were small things. Picking flowers and cooking food for my mother when she had been unwell, spending an afternoon with the children, sending money to my sister or kissing Henry's tiny head as he slept in the nursery before I left. I thought of every detail and afterwards I felt better. Hellfire and brimstone have never appealed to me and I admit I become easily confused thinking of right and wrong. But I do understand kindness.
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The sky was a sparkling succession of black diamonds on black velvet made crystal clear by the blackout.
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She wishes her grandmother had not been so protective, and that she understood better what passes between a man and woman. As it is, she simply enjoys the feelings and wonders if they are what lightning is made of, for everything comes back to the weather. Tears like rain. Smiles like the sun. Hair as dry as sand and fear like the dark ocean.
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Research material can turn up anywhere - in a dusty old letter in an archive, a journal or some old photographs you find in a charity shop.
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Aunts offer kids an opportunity to try out ideas that don't chime with their parents and they also demonstrate that people can get on, love each other and live together without necessarily being carbon copies.
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I don't choose between my house phone and my mobile. I don't choose between my laptop and my notebook. And I don't intend to choose between my e-reader and my bookshelf.
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Historical fiction of course is particularly research-heavy. The details of everyday life are there to trip you up. Things that we take for granted, indeed, hardly think about, can lead to tremendous mistakes.
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I always thought that bagels and lox was my soul food, but it turns out it's sushi.
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History at its best is a gritty, dirty business.
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The new contract between writers and readers is one I'm prepared to sign up to. I've met some fascinating people at events and online. Down with the isolation of writers I say! And long live Twitter.
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Everyone assumes writers spend their time lounging around, writing and occasionally striking a pose whilst having a think.
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I'm a library user and I just don't hoard books. To me, they're for sharing.
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Today women have the rights and equality our Victorian sisters could only dream of, and with those privileges comes the responsibility of standing up and being counted.
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Change occurs slowly. Very often a legal change might take place but the cultural shift required to really accept its spirit lingers in the wings for decades.
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The law don't like jazz clubs. No one wants anything to do with that kind of trouble.
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Without archives many stories of real people would be lost, and along with those stories, vital clues that allow us to reflect and interpret our lives today.
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Scotland consistently produces world-class writers.
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At the end of the day, that's what a family is - a group of different people who accept each other.
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I jealously guard my research time and I love fully immersing myself in those dusty old books and papers. It's one of the most enjoyable parts of my job.
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History is full of blank spaces, but good stories, invariably, are not.
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Writing about the 1950s has given me tremendous respect for my mother's generation.
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Books exist for me not as physical entities with pages and binding, but in the province of my mind.
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There is something particularly fascinating about seeing places you know in a piece of art - be that in a film, or a photograph or painting.
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Often we don't notice the stringent rules to which our culture subjects us.