I feel as if I'm living in a muffling fog, and not just because of the hydra-headed cold I've been battling since Friday. On Sunday I talked to my sister in Tauranga and she said my birth mother was fading gently, but the end came much sooner than we expected - she died peacefully at 7.30 this morning. So I'll be going up soon for the funeral. I'm so glad I had that final visit with her at the end of June.
One of the first things I thought of was that now she, like Harvey, will never get to read (or at least have read to her) my food memoir. It's going to be published early next year as an original e-book by Awa Press, the very first one that they will do this way, rather than in print. So I'll be writing more about that as soon as I get myself properly back together again.
Will Self explains how the cinematic technique and characters of Steven Spielberg's 1970s classic led him to contemplate a novel about post-traumatic stres...
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