How can there be so many mothers in the world but so little sense of what it might be to become one?

The 'good' mother, with her fixed smile, her rigidity, her goody-goody outlook, her obsession with unnecessary hygiene, is in fact a fool. It is the 'bad' mother, unafraid of a joke and a glass of wine, richly self-expressive, scornful of suburban values, who is, in reality, good.

Modern morality is all about perception.

I remain fascinated by where you go as a woman once you are a mother, and if you ever come back.

Society in the English countryside is still strangely, quaintly divided. If black comedy and a certain type of social commentary are what you want, I think English rural communities offer quite a lot of material.

A neighbor is something that belongs to the stable world of home life, the thing that lives next door to you.

The writing you allude to is a form of dissent, but it's also expressive of the need to evolve beyond what is turgid and stale in contemporary fiction.