This might sound really foolish, but when I came to Edinburgh in 1988 I had spent nearly all my life living south of Bristol, and I was just amazed that a city like Edinburgh was actually in the British isles.

The city had defeated her, just like they said it would. Like some overcrowded party, no one had noticed her arrival, and would notice if she left.

You must do what you enjoy.

At university, I used to write silly little sketches and monologues, but never fiction.

No, friends were like clothes: fine while they lasted but eventually they wore thin or you grew out of them.

Of course you should study whatever you want. The written appreciation and understanding of literature, or any kind of artistic endeavour, is absolutely central to a decent society. Why d'you think books are the first things that the fascists burn?

And you stupid, stupid woman, stupid for caring, stupid for thinking that he cared.