Richard Flanagan reveals how not to lose a first draft, Betty Grumble weaponises art, and intersectional feminism gets raunchy
There is a particular level of intimacy usually only reached at 2am after sharing several bottles of wine with a close friend, or immediately with a drunk girl in a nightclub bathroom. It’s the point at which your friend can lean in, push your hair out of your eyes and say lovingly and without judgment: “Listen: you need to dump him.”
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