I Think Young Children In

The Writing Day Can Be, In Some Ways, Too Short, But It's Actually A Long Series Of Hours, For Months At A Time, And There Is A Stillness There.

No Woman That I Know Is Capable Of Leaving Her Child Down For Thirty Seconds. She Can't Walk Away Without Making Sure That Everything Is Absolutely As Secure And Safe For Her Child As Can Be.

Remember, If You Sit At Your Desk For 15 Or 20 Years, Every Day, Not Counting Weekends, It Changes You. It Just Does. It May Not Improve Your Temper, But It Fixes Something Else. It Makes You More Free.

I'm Starting To Think My Narrators' Sentences Are Getting Too Big For Them, And They Are Getting To Sound A Bit Samey And, More Disturbingly, A Bit Too Much Like Me.

I Am A Trembling Mess From Hip To Knee. There Is A Terrible Heat, A Looseness In My Innards That Makes Me Want To Dig My Fists Between My Thighs. It Is A Confusing Feeling - Somewhere Between Diarrhoea And Sex - This Grief That Is Almost Genital.