OK, we seriously need to talk about Kesha. Hang on, hear me out here. This isn’t like all those other times I’ve needed to talk about Kesha only to tell everyone that I believe she’s the Keith Richards of our generation, or that sometimes I imagine she’s my daughter and get really proud of her. You all thought those stories were weird and that I shouldn’t tell them again, so fine. But this time, we really need to talk about Kesha.
At 4:30 yesterday afternoon, I began reading Louise O’Neill’s Asking For It. I finished it at 11:59 that same night. Completely drained, I felt like bursting into tears of rage and helplessness. For the entire evening (with a short break to watch Forrest Gump with my family, which didn’t help with the whole wanting-to-cry thing) I had been immersed in the harrowing story of a teenage gang-rape victim. And yet, although I was thoroughly exhausted, all I wanted to do was get started straight away on O’Neill’s other novel Only Ever Yours. Because what Louise O’Neill has to say is that important. What O’Neill has to say can’t wait until morning.
Continue reading “Louise O’Neill is speaking and we all need to listen”
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