The false promise of the ‘promised land’
I’ve had to learn that writing about identity isn’t a lower or lazier form of art
MIDLIST | CONFESSIONS OF A WEARY NOVELIST
Years ago, at a friend’s birthday party, I met a journalist whom I had long admired. She, like me, worked on a monthly magazine aimed at British-Asian women. The two of us moved in the same circles and I was pleased to finally meet her. Usually, in this type of scenario, I find common ground fairly quickly, slipp…
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