A writer's work may be a coded autobiography, but only a very close friend could decipher it.
Nina BawdenI was born in a small suburb of Ilford in a rather nasty housing estate that my mother despised. She had grown up in the country, so when the war came and I was evacuated to Wales she thought I was much better off there.
Nina BawdenI like stirring the pot - I think it's part of my duty, to shake people up a bit - make them look at things in a different way.
Nina BawdenI was cleaning out the pigsty at a farm in Wales, where my mother had rented a room, when the results of my final school exam were handed to me by the postman, along with the news that I had a state scholarship to Oxford. I had waited for this letter for so many weeks that I had abandoned hope, deciding that I had failed ignominiously.
Nina Bawden