Sink Into Morbid, Cynical Reflection On How

I Think That When You're Writing Fiction What You're Doing Is Reflecting Life As You See It, And Putting Down How You Think And How Other People Think, And The Sort Of Confusions That You Don't Normally Like To Admit To.

Sink Into Morbid, Cynical Reflection On How Much Romantic Heartbreak Is To Do With Ego And Miffed Pride Rather Than Actual Loss

9p.m. My Flat. Feel Very Strange And Empty. Is All Very Well Thinking Everything Is Going To Be Different When You Come Back But Then It Is All The Same. Suppose I Have To Make It Different. But What Am I Going To Do With My Life? I Know. Will Eat Some Cheese.

I Always Market Research My Books Before I Hand Them In By Showing Them To Five Or Six Close Friends Who I Trust To Be Honest With Me, So They Are Very Heavily Re-written Already.

I Am A Child Of Cosmopolitan Culture, Have Been Traumatized By Supermodels And Too Many Quizzes And Know That Neither My Personality Nor My Body Is Up To It If Left To Its Own Devices. I Can't Take The Pressure.