“All the joy of the previous evening dissolves as you realise what you have written is crap. You are embarrassed and sad. You thought you were smart, but you’re clearly deluded.”

“All I wanted was for someone to bring me coffee and leave me alone to sit in the sun with my eyes closed. I started to wonder if Yogi Tim was a misogynist.”

“I had the whole world in my head, but it wouldn’t come out. I was deeply confused. Then I became paralysed with fear. Why couldn’t I write? And if I wasn’t a writer, who was I?”