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“There’s no magic to it…”

The point, the bit I live for, is the rare moment of satisfaction when a smell or a quality of sadness comes into perfect verbal focus. That’s how my family know the day has gone well: I have a lightness which comes from the absence of panic, the knowledge that, for once, I did what I’m best at doing.

I was much relieved to realise that the first paragraph of Charlotte Mendelson’s ‘My Writing Day’ entry for the Guardian was a wind-up. On the other hand, the final paragraph, quoted above, feels perfectly genuine.