It is coincidence, I decide, and I am getting old and batty, thinking the universe revolves around me.

Sometimes people go off in a slightly different direction of wanting to be different, of wanting to be special, of wanting to be more, and I think that those people are often - not always, but often - genuinely different in some way. Perhaps their gender orientation is not acceptable or popular, not the norm. Or, their physical design is literally, in some way, setting them apart. Or, in many cases, they feel the burden of their ordinariness so dreadfully that they strive to find some way of being unique. I think that can be a very positive thing, but it also can be negative, destructive.

Asked why they wanted to fight, the young women said they enjoyed it, just as some men and boys do.

Were also far enough from the publishing power that we have no access to the politics of publishing, although there are interpersonal politics, of course.

I get glimpses of the horror of normalcy. Each of these innocents on the street is engulfed by a terror of their own ordinariness. They would do anything to be unique.

I have been a believer in the magic of language since, at a very early age, I discovered that some words got me into trouble and others got me out.

And while national military forces have historically resisted the full participation of women soldiers, female talent has found plenty of scope in revolutionary and terrorist groups around the planet.