By SARVAT HASIN
I have been thinking a lot about tribes lately, about families and the people you twine your life with. I don’t mean the people you’re born with. I don’t mean romantic love: I mean the other thing, the stuff that comes in between that people forget to cling on to.
In the pub, after my book launch, a friend wraps her arm around my shoulders. There has been talk all evening of how good it is to be around each other. We discuss living as a commune. She says: I think we should form a coven.
I say: I thought that’s what we were doing.
Everyone at the table laughs but I am not joking.
Writing is solitary. You do it in a room alone. Properly speaking, you should do it up in the hills with no one around for miles, just someone to bring…
View original post 587 more words