This Was Love: A String Of Coincidences

I Think My First General Rule Is That Most Of My Experiences Are Not That Interesting. It's Usually Other People's Experiences. It's Not That Entirely Conscious. Somebody Tells Me A Story Or, You Know, Repeats An Anecdote That Somebody Else Told Them And I Just Feel Like I Have To Write It Down So I Don't Forget - That Means For Me, Something Made It Fiction-worthy. Interesting Things Never Happen To Me, So Maybe Two Or Three Times When They Do, I Have To Use Them, So I Write Them Down.

The Novels I Love, The Ones I Remember, The Ones I Re-read, Have An Empathetic Human Quality, Or 'emotional Truth'. This Quality Is Difficult To Fully Define, But I Always Recognise It When I See It: It Is Different From Honesty And More Resilient Than Fact, Something That Exists Not In The Kind Of Fiction That Explains But In The Kind That Shows.

Of Course I Am Not Worried About Intimidating Men. The Type Of Man Who Will Be Intimidated By Me Is Exactly The Type Of Man I Have No Interest In.

I Have My Father's Lopsided Mouth. When I Smile, My Lips Slope To One Side. My Doctor Sister Calls It My Cerebral Palsy Mouth. I Am Very Much A Daddy's Girl, And Even Though I Would Rather My Smile Wasn't Crooked, There Is Something Moving For Me About Having A Mouth Exactly Like My Father's.

You Deserve To Take Up Space.