A Drinker Does Not Exist. Whatever They

You Write A Book And You Finish The Book. That's Your Job Done, Right? You Win The Booker And You Have A Whole New Job. You Have To Be The Thing, Right? So Instead Of Writing The Story, You Somehow Are The Story. And That I Found That Sort Of Terrible.

It Is Very Hard To Trace The Effect Of Words On A Life.

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.

There Is Nothing As Tentative As An Old Woman's Touch; As Loving Or As Horrible.

I Was Raised In A Very Old Fashioned Ireland Where Women Were Reared To Be Lovely.