I’ve got the launch of my second book next week and I don’t know what to read; I mean, I don’t want to read out any of the stories in public. I want people to take the book and read the stories at home, in private. They’re depressing and they make me feel stuck. Physically, I like holding the book and aesthetically it looks okay, and yet when I page through it and look at the stories, I dread the moment when I will have to stand up in front of an audience and say the words out loud. The stories were not written out of love. They are full of anguish and anxiety and despair and anger and frustration and a desperate longing for love (as well as a great fear of love). I want to believe that I am no longer in that place. I have a new lover who I am still getting to know. I am trying to keep my heart open, to be compassionate and attentive. I am trying not to whine. These things are not easy for me.