But nearly every woman I know has a roughly similar story - in fact, dozens of them: stories about being obsessed with a celebrity, work colleague or someone they vaguely knew for years; living in a parallel world in their head; conjuring up endless plots and scenarios for this thing that never actually happened.

It's always sunny above the clouds. Always. Every day on earth - every day I have ever had - was secretly sunny, after all.

Why on earth have I, because I'm a woman, got to be nice to everyone?

I'm SO glad I spent 10 years being sad and lonely.

We need to reclaim the word feminism. We need to reclaim the word feminism real bad.

I wrote my first book at eight, all of four pages. At 10, I did a 40-page story. At 12, I wrote two stage plays.

The word barren tells you everything you need to know...The word spinster tells you everything you need to know about our attitude of women who choose not to marry... Imagine if you saw George Clooney on the cover of a magazine every week with, is George broody? Is George going to adopt a baby? When is George going to have another kid? It would just seem weird. We'd seem demented, yet it's totally valid for women.