Time & Perspective Quote by Irvine Welsh

Welsh is quietly torching the fantasy of the “real writer” who wakes at 5 a.m., drinks the correct artisanal stimulant, and produces clean pages on schedule. His claim isn’t just that he’s flexible; it’s that rigidity is a lie his work can’t afford. Coming from the author of Trainspotting and its jagged, polyphonic descendants, the line reads like a craft manifesto built out of necessity: when your subject is fractured communities, altered states, and voices that don’t fit polite narration, a single repeatable workflow would be its own kind of censorship.

The syntax does the work. “Any set time... any set way” lands like a dismissal of institutionalized discipline, the sort that workshop culture and productivity discourse treat as moral virtue. Then the pivot: “I haven’t re-invented... but I almost have.” That hedged bravado is classic Welsh: anti-pretension with a grin, refusing the romantic myth of perpetual reinvention while also insisting each book demanded a new approach. It’s not a claim to genius; it’s a refusal to let process become branding.

Subtextually, he’s defending messiness as professionalism. Different books require different engines: a novel driven by voice wants immersion and rhythm; one driven by plot may need outlining; one driven by rage might demand speed before it cools. In an era that tries to turn artists into content machines, Welsh frames inconsistency as fidelity to the material. The real throughline isn’t a routine; it’s an ethic: serve the book, not the calendar.