Lost

 In the chapter "Writing" of Reading and Writing, Robertson Davies wrote

The worst thing that can happen to a writer is to draw in upon himself and his work until he knows nobody except other writers; he is then reduced to the literary desperation of writing a book about a man who is writing a book, and when he does that we know he is finished.

On St. Patrick's Day 2006, near the Gallery Place Metro, someone from Solas Nua offered me the choice of one of two or three books by Irish authors, and I chose the novel There Is a House by Kieron Connolly.  I took it home, looked at it, and put in on the bookshelf. It stayed there a good while.

Recently I noticed it and thought that I might as well read it: it is about 200 pages long, and the pages are not large. I have read it, and think that in part it is subject to Davies's criticism. The theme of the narrator's writer's block is varied if not improved by chapters of convalescence from alcoholic benders. 

Having said that, I will say that I don't believe that Connolly knew only other writers, though I can imagine that this might be easier in Ireland than in some other countries (and might not imply an especially narrow circle of acquaintances). I will also say that if Solas Nua were to appear suddenly next week and offer me another choice of books, I might take one of Connolly's if one were in the mix.