In praise of LSD

Ayelet Waldman is, surely, not the first writer to have scrolled through a list of ‘Books of the Year’ and become increasingly enraged to find her own book not on it. But where other authors manage to keep a dignified silence (sticking pins into critics’ byline photos in private), Waldman demonstrates a lively lack of self-control, and often reaches for her phone. In 2014 she fired off a volley of increasingly furious tweets when the New York Times omitted her novel Love and Treasure from its list of ‘Notable Books’. Her book was, she railed, ‘fucking great’. It felt ‘fucking demoralising’ to be excluded when her book had garnered ‘better reviews’ than many on the list.

As a fan of the Berkeley-based author’s taboo-busting writing about motherhood, my response is conflicted. I enjoy the savage wit and energy of her outbursts, knowing I’d be mortified if I behaved like that myself.