ON WRITING... With Salman Rushdie and Kazuo Ishiguro

Summary

Podcast Summary: How To Fail with Elizabeth Day

Episode: ON WRITING... With Salman Rushdie and Kazuo Ishiguro

Release Date: September 21, 2025
Host: Elizabeth Day
Guests: Kazuo Ishiguro, Salman Rushdie

---

Episode Overview

This special compilation episode of How To Fail features two literary giants, Kazuo Ishiguro and Salman Rushdie, sharing candid insights into their creative processes, personal anxieties, and the lessons found in perceived failures. Elizabeth Day, while marking the publication week of her own novel, explores with her guests how doubt, exposure, and adversity have shaped their lives and writing. The episode probes deep questions about the value of art, the role of emotion versus truth, the importance of supportive relationships, and the resilience demanded by both creativity and life itself.

---

Key Discussion Points and Insights

1. Kazuo Ishiguro on Imposter Syndrome and the Value of Writing

• Early Days at UEA:

  • Ishiguro recalls feeling apprehensive and fearing humiliation when starting the University of East Anglia’s new—and then-frowned-upon—creative writing course (05:04).
  • He quickly became the “star” of the small group, despite initial doubts about his talent.
  • “I was pleasantly surprised that the standard wasn’t that high… Before I went, yes, I didn’t know what to expect because I was a bit of an imposter. I hadn’t really written much fiction.” (05:39)

• Lingering Doubts Post-Nobel:

  • Even after winning the Nobel Prize, Ishiguro wrestles with deeper questions about the worth of literature in society, especially compared to scientific or medical breakthroughs (06:00).
  • “At some deeper level, I worry about the whole imposter thing, yes… Is what I do really that worthwhile? Does it merit something like a Nobel Prize alongside scientists?” (06:04)
  • He questions whether prioritizing emotional resonance in art might contribute to societal drift from truth toward subjectivity.

• Writing from an Outsider’s Perspective:

  • Ishiguro describes his consistent use of narrators who are outsiders—whether a robot (in Klara and the Sun), a butler (The Remains of the Day), or a clone (Never Let Me Go)—to help readers see the familiar in new ways (08:36).
  • “It felt oddly natural to me to be talking through a robot. I don’t know what that says.” (08:54)

• Relocation and Perspective:

  • Moving from Nagasaki to Guildford at age five was less jarring than it might seem; Ishiguro explains that at five, “everything was startling,” and he was learning alongside his peers (09:27).

2. The 'Crash' Writing Technique and Collaborative Creativity

• The Myth of the Four-Week Draft:

  • Ishiguro clarifies the so-called “crash” technique was simply a way to force completion of a rough draft via total immersion and cleared obligations, not the entirety of The Remains of the Day's creation (10:41).
  • “It was a bit weird, but yes, it was like before we had these concepts of virtual reality… I found myself entering a fictional world that seemed to be more real than the world outside.” (11:45)

• The Crucial Role of Family:

  • His wife, Lorna, is an “essential” creative collaborator—editor, critic, and idea-generator since before his writing career began (12:17).
  • “It’s almost second nature to me, you know, that she’s part of the team… She sometimes gives me the ideas to start with.” (13:06)
  • Now, his daughter—also a writer—offers notes and suggestions, adding another familial layer to the revision process (13:40).

---

3. Salman Rushdie on Survival and the Power of Language

• Why 'Knife'?

  • The title directly references the 2022 knife attack Rushdie survived, but also extends to the notion of language as a tool—a “knife” to open up, understand, and explain experience rather than to wound (14:37).
  • “I began to think of language and this book as being kind of my knife. Not in order to injure anybody, but in order to, as it were, cut things open and understand and explain them.” (14:56)

• Naming and Perspective:

  • Rushdie intentionally does not name his assailant to deny him notoriety—a conscious echo of Margaret Thatcher’s stance on not giving terrorists publicity (15:32).
  • “Let’s not give this guy the oxygen of publicity. It is one of the few moments in my life when I’ve been inspired by Margaret Thatcher.” (15:41)

• First vs. Third Person Memoir:

  • Knife is written in the first person, contrasting with his earlier memoir, Joseph Anton, which was written in third person to dramatize the distance between the ‘then-self’ and ‘now-self’ (16:24).
  • The immediacy and trauma of the recent event required an unmediated, personal voice: “There’s no way this can be written except in the first person… it’s a very kind of, very unguarded and kind of undefended book.” (17:11)

• Trauma, Memory, and Re-traumatization:

  • Rushdie discusses how recalling the attack does not re-traumatize him, as he distances himself by “talking about the book about the attack” (17:47).

• Detailed Recollection of the Attack:

  • He recounts the surreal normalcy of the setting (Chautauqua Institution, NY) and the attack's suddenness, noting an odd sense of inevitability—“Oh, it’s you. This has come at last.” (19:45)

• Pain, Trauma, and Recovery:

  • Rushdie notes the lack of remembered pain during the attack—possibly a shock response—contrasted with the excruciating memory of his eyelid being sutured during recovery (20:57; 21:43).
  • “There’s this curious disconnect between outside me and inside me. So I tried to write about that.” (21:21)

• Physical Vulnerability and Healing:

  • He reflects on connecting with his body’s physicality after the attack—observing its “miracle” ability to heal and regenerate, specifically citing his liver's recovery and significant weight loss (22:28).

---

Quotes & Notable Moments

Kazuo Ishiguro

• “At some deeper level, I worry about the whole imposter thing, yes… what is the purpose of writing novels and putting them out there? Is it that important?” (06:04)
• “It felt oddly natural to me to be talking through a robot. I don’t know what that says.” (08:54)
• On his wife’s influence: “She sometimes gives me the ideas to start with.” (13:06)

Salman Rushdie

• “I began to think of language and this book as being kind of my knife. Not in order to injure anybody, but in order to, as it were, cut things open and understand and explain them.” (14:56)
• “Let’s not give this guy the oxygen of publicity. It is one of the few moments in my life when I’ve been inspired by Margaret Thatcher.” (15:41)
• On writing Knife: “There’s no way this can be written except in the first person… it’s a very kind of, very unguarded and kind of undefended book.” (17:11)
• “There’s this curious disconnect between outside me and inside me. So I tried to write about that.” (21:21)
• “If you’re a novelist, you don’t really pay a lot of attention to your body. And this was such an intensely physical experience that it connected me… It showed me the kind of miracle of this thing we live in and its ability to heal.” (22:28)

Memorable Exchanges

• Elizabeth Day jokes about The Rushdie Diet after his significant weight loss:
  • Rushdie: “It’s like Jane Fonda’s workout book.” (23:20)

---

Timestamps for Important Segments

| Timestamp | Segment Description | |-----------|-------------------------------------------------------| | 05:04 | Ishiguro on UEA course, imposter feelings | | 06:00 | Post-Nobel doubts about the value of writing | | 08:36 | Outsider viewpoints in Ishiguro’s work | | 10:41 | The truth behind 'the crash' writing technique | | 12:17 | Lorna Ishiguro’s vital role in Ishiguro’s creativity | | 13:40 | Family criticism and extended writing process | | 14:37 | Rushdie on the meaning of ‘Knife’ and language | | 15:32 | Refusal to name the assailant; Margaret Thatcher ref. | | 16:24 | Memoir: first vs. third person perspective | | 18:18 | Rushdie’s account of the attack | | 20:57 | Memory of pain/lack thereof during attack and after | | 22:28 | Rushdie on physical recovery and bodily awareness | | 23:17 | Humorous exchange about ‘The Rushdie Diet’ |

---

Conclusion

This episode offers a powerful meditation on vulnerability, resilience, and the meaning of creative work in turbulent times. Both Ishiguro and Rushdie illuminate how, even at the height of success, self-doubt and critical introspection persist. Their insights transcend the specifics of writing, resonating with anyone who has worked through adversity, questioned their path, or sought meaning in challenge.

---

For more, search for "How To Fail with Elizabeth Day" on your favorite podcast platform.

Transcript

[LinkedIn Ads Narrator]

Does it ever feel like you're a marketing professional just speaking into the void? But with LinkedIn ads, you can know you're reaching the right decision makers, a network of 130 million of them. In fact, you can even target buyers by job title, industry, company seniority, skills and Did I say job title. See how you can avoid the void and reach the right buyers with LinkedIn ads. Spend $250 on your first campaign and get a free $250 credit for the next one. Get [e-mail] Campaign terms and conditions apply.

[WhatsApp Ads Narrator]

When did making plans get this complicated? It's time to streamline with WhatsApp, the secure messaging app that brings the whole group together. Use polls to settle dinner plans, send event invites and pin messages so no one forgets mom 60th and never miss a meme or milestone. All protected with end to end encryption. It's time for WhatsApp message privately with everyone. Learn [e-mail].

[Elizabeth Day]

Welcome to how to Fail. I'm so excited to bring you some more highlights from our extensive how to Fail back catalogue, and I'm hoping that you might find the comfort that you need or have your interest piqued by some of my favorite guests. Now, this week is a particularly special week because it just so happens to be my new book publication Week One of Us. My new novel is out in the world from the 25th of September, and I want to be really honest with you because I always am with my lovely housefell listeners. I'm feeling really anxious and really exposed and I'm having to remind myself to breathe into that anxiety and to turn it into a love of adventure and a belief, belief in excitement. But I wanted to share that with you because I think it's really important to be real about this process. And it's something that I'm often asked about. I'm often asked, how do you write a book? And of course the easy answer to that is you have to start writing and you have to carry on writing and eventually you will get to the stage where you have a draft that you can then edit. But that's only the beginning of the story. There's a whole other part of the story which is if you are lucky enough to get published. And I do consider myself so blessed that this is the 10th book I've had published. This feeling of anxiety and exposure and a sense of slight imposter syndrome never entirely goes away, and I have come to understand that it in and of itself is part of the writing process. So now, even though it still feels the same, the accumulated wisdom means that I understand it's a transitional phase and I will get to the other side of it. But if we are to care about our work and to put that work out into the world, then if you're doing it right, it should always feel exposing because it means that you are being truthful about emotion and feeling and stories. So obviously, I had to take this opportunity to look back at some of my favourite writers who have been on how to Fail. First. First, you're going to hear an extract from my conversation with arguably one of our greatest writers of contemporary fiction, Kazuo Ishiguro. You might know his most famous book, the Remains of the Day, which won the Booker Prize and was adapted into a major film starring Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson. His other works, including Never Let Me Go and the Buried Giant, have earned him countless awards, including the Nobel Prize for literature in 2017. He was actually the first Nobel laureate I interviewed. On this podcast, he talks about feeling like an imposter in the writing world, starting out at the University of East Anglia and a writing technique he coined the crash. Highly relatable. Then we're going to hear from the legendary Salman Rushdie, the writer whose reputation is such that it transcends the literary world. This is a man famous enough to have had a cameo in the first Bridget Jones movie and Curb youb enthusiasm. In August 2022, Rushdie was viciously attacked while delivering a lecture in New York. The viol violent attack almost cost him his life, but against all expectations, he survived. In this excerpt, he talks about his book Knife, in which he reflects, we would not be who we are today without the calamities of our yesterdays. First up, here's Kazuo Ishiguro. I mentioned there that when you applied to the UEA Creative Writing course, you felt this sense of dread, fear of being humiliated. Were you humiliated during that course?

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

No, I wasn't. Actually. There were only six of us on the course. It wasn't like it is now. People didn't really have a concept of a creative writing course in those days. This was really a pioneering course. And actually, even within the University of East Anglia, a lot of the other academics really frowned upon it. They thought it shouldn't exist, we shouldn't be giving mas for things like this. It only existed because Malcolm Bradbury, the guy who put this on the course, was a celebrated writer and academic. To be frank, I wasn't. I was pleasantly surprised that the standard wasn't that high. Although you know, I think there was some interesting writing being done on the course. And very rapidly I was seen to be the star of the course, which I wasn't so sure about myself. But before I went, yes, I didn't know what to expect because I was a bit of an imposter. I hadn't really written much fiction.

[Elizabeth Day]

Do you feel like an imposter now, or do you think the Nobel Prize has helped you maybe get over that?

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

I don't think the Nobel Prize has done anything one way or the other about that. I mean, we can talk about this later when we come to failures. I mean, at some deeper level, I worry about the whole imposter thing, yes, but not at the level of, do I deserve to be published? Do I deserve to be called a writer? I don't think I ever had much doubts about that once I got going. But at a more profound level, I do ask, is what I do really that worthwhile? Does it merit something like a Nobel Prize alongside scientists? You know, people have made huge breakthroughs in medicine. Do I merit a Nobel Prize alongside such people for what I do? And I guess some of the things that have been happening in the world in recent years do lead me to actually wonder, what is the purpose of writing novels and putting them out there? Is it that important? In fact, I think, have we been contributing to something that's a bit dodgy, given the way we seem to have shifted over onto emotions rather than truth and fact, this idea that, oh, what you feel is what matters? You can. If you feel it, then it's true. I'm kind of wondering if the huge emphasis I've always put in my work on being able to communicate through emotions and to relate to readers emotionally, is that a sound way to be going about things at that kind of larger level? I've often thought, you know, is this thing what I do, Is it just some sort of cultural accident that it's been given a certain place in the hierarchy of things, and I get given prizes and knighthoods and things, but actually that's just some sort of historical and cultural accident? And is it actually so valuable? Is it actually contributing to something adrift away from truth and a kind of dispassionate way of looking at things.

[Elizabeth Day]

Fascinating. I don't have an answer, other than saying that I think what you do is incredibly valuable, because every single one of your novels encourages the reader to examine what life means and what brings it meaning. And it's interesting to me that you're talking about how useful emotion is. Because it strikes me now that Klara and the sun is a meditation on that in many ways, it's in which you use the point of view of an artificial friend who doesn't fully understand the nuance of this human world that she finds herself in, or even sometimes what she's literally seeing. And therefore, you, as a writer have to use deceptively simple language to reveal quite profound truths. And I just wanted to know on a technical level how difficult that was for you, because essentially you have to see the world anew.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Yeah, but I've always had a habit of doing that ever since I, you know, I started to write. I've always written from the point of view of an outsider, a foreigner, a peculiar kind of near autistic butler, a clone. It's my kind of favored stance, is to use a distanced and sometimes peculiarly kind of emotionally restrained viewpoint to look at human beings. I'm always after perspective. And so I like to create things that perhaps offer readers slightly startling perspective on familiar things. No, Clara wasn't such an amazing departure for me at all, really. I didn't feel. It felt oddly natural to me to be talking through a robot. I don't know what that says.

[Elizabeth Day]

Was it startling for you to see the world anew when you moved to Guildford from Nagasaki at the age of five?

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

It was startling at some level, but not as much as all that, because, I mean, you can cast your mind back to when you were very young, but everything was startling when you're only five. You remember when. Well, maybe you don't remember, but, I mean, presumably there was a time when you couldn't walk, and so the world was something that you crawled around, and then suddenly you could walk and you could run and you couldn't speak, and then you could speak. And so it just seemed to be part of that. It was another new batch of experiences. But I went to school at the same time for the first time as the English kids did. So I. I was kind of in sync with my peers in that sense. I didn't have that weird experience of coming to a school where people had been together for ages and they all spoke in this different language. I felt I was kind of learning things at more or less the same pace. It was odd because I don't remember actually not being able to speak English, but obviously when I arrived, I didn't speak English, but I don't really have a memory of consciously learning the language.

[Elizabeth Day]

You mentioned the butler there, from the Remains of the Day, just before we get onto your Failures. Is it true that you wrote the Remains of the in four weeks using a technique you and your wife describe as the crash?

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

No, it's not true at all. This has become a bit of a weird myth. I mean, I said this in some interview. Maybe I wrote about it somewhere. No, this was just a way to get the rough stuff, the rough draft done. And I was finding at the time difficult, partly out of self discipline, but partly because of other obligations to just get down to it. And so we just cleared the deck of everything. I mean, in those days we didn't have things like the Internet, so it was easier. I wasn't allowed to pay any attention to the answering machine. I wasn't allowed to open any mail in those days. I used to spend a lot of time shopping and cooking. I didn't do any of that. I was just given one hour off for lunch and two hours off for dinner. And then after dinner I'd have to go and work again. And I had Sundays off. That was it for four weeks. We just thought, let's see what happens if I did that. And it wasn't just the amount of time, it was the psychological space you entered into when you did that. It was a bit weird, but yes, it was like before we had this concepts of virtual reality and alternative realities. It was like I found myself entering a fictional world that seemed to be more real than the world outside. And on Sundays I would go outside and giggle. I wander in the street outside and giggle at everybody. And the fact that the high street, Sydenham High street was on the slope seemed to be hilarious.

[Elizabeth Day]

I love also the idea that you and your wife were involved in this endeavour together. Is she very much someone whose opinion you respect as a reader? Will she be someone who reads your work first? How involved is she in the creative process?

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Oh, she's vital to the creative process. You have to understand that for one reason or another, we've been together for 40 years. And so she knew me before I was a writer. You know, when we met, I hadn't written anything. I was a would be singer songwriter. And so she was there criticizing the very first things I wrote on paper and saying, ha, you know, what's this? Do you reckon you're a writer because you've written this? I mean, look at so, you know, stories, whatever. I mean, she was the first person to look at them, scrutinize them, say which ones were good, which ones weren't. And so I've kind of got used to that. I mean, she's a Very good critic and editor. But the important thing is I know where she's coming from. I know when to ignore her and when not to ignore her. Most of the time I don't ignore her because I get in real trouble if I do ignore her. And I mean, it's almost second nature to me, you know, that she's part of the team. Sometimes you get these musical duos, but nevertheless their act is named after just one person. Like a person I really admire at the moment is Gideon Welch, the American singer. But actually there are a couple. It's Gideon Welch and David Rawdings, but it's a two person act with a name. The band's name is Gideon Welch. And I kind of feel it. It's a little bit like that with me and my wife. She doesn't just edit afterwards. I mean, she sometimes gives me the ideas to start with.

[Elizabeth Day]

That's so lovely. And your wife's name is Lorna. Let's give her her name. Yeah, she's Tribute to Lorna.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Lorna Shiguro. And now I've got another member of the family who I have to get past before I can send anything off, which is my daughter, who's now a published writer. She had a short story collection early in 2020. She has a book coming out and her first novel coming out at the same time as me in 2021. And I have to get past her as well now. And so for Clara, for instance, I thought I'd finished clara back in 2019. Yeah, in the spring of 2019. I thought I'd finished it, but my wife told me how to do about four months more work on it. She didn't say, do four months more work. She said, you've got to change this, this, this, this. And it took me four months. Then I thought I better show it to my daughter. And then huge pile of notes. And so I spent about 10 more months on account of these family members who wouldn't allow me to show it to my agent or anything. It's tough, you know, it's very difficult. But I mean, what can you do?

[Elizabeth Day]

Why did you call it knife?

[Salman Rushdie]

Well, I mean, just two reasons. One is the obvious reason, which is that it starts with a knife attack my head works in a very free, associative way. So I started thinking about knives that I knew about in art and film and books and so on. And then I thought language itself is a kind of tool which I can use to fight back, if you like. So I began to think of language and this book as being kind of my knife. Not in order to injure anybody, but in order to, as it were, cut things open and understand and explain them.

[Elizabeth Day]

You make the decision not to name the assailant, the would be assassin. You call him the A. And you also made the decision to write knife in the first person. Your previous memoir, Joseph Anton, was written in the third. Can I ask why you made those decisions?

[Salman Rushdie]

Well, not naming him was. I just didn't want his name in my book.

[Elizabeth Day]

Yes, fair enough. Yes.

[Salman Rushdie]

And I actually remembered this thing that Margaret Thatcher used to say about the ira. She said, don't give them the oxygen of publicity. And I thought, okay, you know, let's not give this guy the oxygen of publicity. It is one of the few moments in my life when I've been inspired by Margaret Thatcher.

[Elizabeth Day]

There's more than one.

[Salman Rushdie]

Well, well, you know, actually back in the bad old days when, when the, there was this major police protection here. I mean, I met her a couple of times when, when she was Prime Minister, you know, and the most unexpected thing about Margaret Thatcher is that she's.

[Elizabeth Day]

Very touchy feely with men, I hear.

[Salman Rushdie]

Yeah, she puts, put her hands on your arm and shoulders and how are you dear, etc. It's very kind of, kind of in a way, auntie like, you know, but very unexpected and quite disarming, you know. And the third person. Well, you know, when I wrote that earlier book, Joseph Anton, it was quite a long time after the events that were described in the book. It was several, several years later. And what I thought is that the, that the me who was writing that book was at a. Was so slightly different than the me who was being written about. You know, I mean, I was in a better place, I was in a better spirit. You know, life had improved and the person being written about was in very difficult situation and under a lot of stress and so on. So I thought there's a little distance between the two me's and the third person in a way dramatized that difference. This time there's no distance at all. But the thing about that is somebody attacks you with a knife, I thought there's no way this can be written except in the first person. Because also it's a very kind of, very unguarded and kind of undefended book. And I think it doesn't require the distance of the third person.

[Elizabeth Day]

We chatted a bit before we started recording about whether talking about this re. Traumatises you and you've been kind enough and generous enough to say that you're okay with it?

[Salman Rushdie]

Yeah, that's got a little switch in my head has flipped so that instead of me talking about the attack, I'm talking about the book. About the attack.

[Elizabeth Day]

Yes.

[Salman Rushdie]

So I'm talking about a book. And that I think is a way of defending myself from the risk of retraumatizing.

[Elizabeth Day]

Let's talk about the book then. And that opening account of what happened to you. Would you mind telling us your memory of seeing the assailant?

[Salman Rushdie]

Yeah. The Chautauqua Institution is this very pretty, beautiful, peaceful place in upstate New York. It's kind of sylvan and peaceful and full of silver haired liberal retirees. Nobody locks their door. It's the last place on earth where you'd expect an act of violence to occur. There's this amphitheater of space which is actually quite large. I mean, it seats like 4,000 people. But on this occasion there are probably 1,500 people in the audience. And we had just come out on stage to have a conversation about my friend Henry Reese, who runs an organization in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, which gives refuge to writers from various parts of the world who need. Who need refuge. So they were celebrating the 20th anniversary of his project. And so I was there for him. You know, I wasn't there to talk about me, I was there to talk about him. And we've just, we just come out and been introduced and sat down in our chairs. And I saw this person get up from the auditorium not very far back, about six or seven rows back, wearing dark clothes and wearing a face mask, a black Covid face mask. And he started running. I was on the right hand side of the stage and to my right there was a small flight of like four steps down from the stage level to the audience level. And he just sprinted up the steps and rushed at me. I had a pretty good idea of.

[Elizabeth Day]

What it was you recount in the book. The idea of, oh, it's you. That sort of familiarity of, oh, this has come at last.

[Salman Rushdie]

Yeah. Cause I had, I mean, back in the early days after the initial threats, obviously I had thought about it, you know, I thought about the possibility of an attack like that happening. And then I'd stop thinking about it. Because, you know, I moved to New York City in just after the millennium. I mean, like January 2000. And I'd been living there at that moment for more than 23 years. And I'd been leading the ordinary life of a writer. I'd been doing things that writers do. I'd been going on book tour. I'd Been doing readings and going to literary festivals and giving lectures and writing books. There had never been a moment of trouble. And so I thought, you know, okay, that's over. And then it wasn't.

[Elizabeth Day]

You recount this thought process, and you also write that the thought of death you were quite matter of fact about, but you didn't feel pain, or at least you can't remember feeling the pain.

[Salman Rushdie]

Yeah, it's very strange that. I mean, as part of the work of writing the book, I had to read about other people's witnesses, evidence of what they saw and heard. And quite a lot of the people who were interviewed said that they'd heard me screaming with pain. You know, oddly, I have no memory of pain. It's, I guess, some kind of shock reaction. So I remember, you know, being on the ground and seeing a lot of blood and seeing people rushing to help. What I don't remember is pain. So there's this curious disconnect between. Between outside me and inside me. So I tried to write about that.

[Elizabeth Day]

You do, however, remember as part of your extensive rehabilitation process, your eyelid being sewn up and that being excruciating.

[Salman Rushdie]

Oh, yeah. They said if we stitch the eyelid shut, then the eye will be able to moisturize itself and will allow it to heal. And I said, that sounds really painful. They said, no, no, there'll be a very powerful local anesthetic. All I can say is either they lied or if that's how much it hurt with the anesthetic. I can only imagine what it would have. How much it would have hurt without the anesthetic because it was agonizing. Picture to yourself a needle going through your eyelid.

[Elizabeth Day]

Actually, one of my worst fears. I mean, I salute you for getting through it, and thank goodness you did. And thank goodness you're here. I wonder how your relationship with your body has changed through this process.

[Salman Rushdie]

Well, I mean, really, that's a great question. Because, you know, if you're a novelist, you don't really pay a lot of attention to your body. And this was such an intensely physical experience that it connected me in a way to my physicality. It showed me the kind of miracle of this thing we live in and its ability to heal. I mean, for example, my liver was badly damaged, but the liver regenerates, so boom, it's just back. I also lost an enormous amount of weight.

[Elizabeth Day]

You look extremely. Well, I have to say, in the.

[Salman Rushdie]

Years before the attack, I'd put on a lot of much too much weight. This thing happens. And I lost £55. I mean, not a diet technique to be recommended.

[Elizabeth Day]

Is that your next book? It's the Rushdie Diet.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Exactly.

[Salman Rushdie]

It's like Jane Fonda's workout book.

[Elizabeth Day]

Please do follow how to fail to get new episodes as they land on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts. Please tell all your friends this is an Elizabeth Day and Sony Music Entertainment original podcast. Thank you so much for listening.

[Salman Rushdie]

And Doug, here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat, helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug.

[LinkedIn Ads Narrator]

Limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us.

[Salman Rushdie]

Cut the camera. They see us. Only pay for what you [e-mail] Liberty Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings vary underwritten by.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Liberty Mutual Insurance Co. Affiliates excludes Massachusetts for a limited time at McDonald's, get.

[LinkedIn Ads Narrator]

A Big Mac Extra Value meal for $8.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

That means two all beef patties, special.

[Salman Rushdie]

Sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a SES recipe, seed bun and medium fries and a drink. We may need to change that jingle.

[Kazuo Ishiguro]

Prices and participation may vary.