Lucky
On living at a high-water mark
Hello!
Before I get into this week’s essay (in which I consider how queer people’s rights and privileges have lagged behind the rest of society by at least a generation), here’s your reminder that next week I will be on the road again, appearing in Gosforth (near Newcastle), York and Settle with the wonderful Felicity Cloake.
I’ll be interviewing Felicity about her enviable career as a food writer who also does long bike trips, and is about to publish a romance novel. (I’ve read it, and it’s brilliant.) And we’ll also be riding at least some of the way between the three venues, so if you have any route suggestions, or favourite cafes and bakeries that we absolutely must visit, let me know. (Sorting out our itinerary is on my to do list for tomorrow.)
Tickets are selling unsurprisingly well, but I think there are still a few left at each venue, so if you want to come and see us, now is your moment. Felicity will be signing and selling books, and I’ll be trying to get her advice on France’s best pastries, England’s best breakfasts, and what sort of cheese keeps best in Ortlieb panniers.
Get your tickets here – we’re really looking forward to meeting you!
And now for the essay…
A few weeks ago, my girlfriend and I had the dizzying realisation that we are probably among one of the most fortunate generations of women ever to have lived. Unlike most other women in history, we were born into an era where gender equality was an expectation – though admittedly one from which we often still fall short.
