Is this an occupational infirmity? Can I remember only what I need for my work? But it’s my work where my memory gives me the most problems. It’s only years later that someone either reminds me that I’d already used a certain anecdote in a few of my books or that the same incident or landscape appears in other of my novels.
Then I pretend that this is fidelity to my life’s story, I do a fairly adroit impersonation of a monothematic writer, just a step away from obsession. This form of etiquette is highly esteemed in the literary world. And so sometimes you can sell that ordinary infirmity, that sclerosis of old age, for decent money.
– Tadeusz Konwicki, Moonrise Moonset