“Nothing was going to compromise my freedom to walk the streets whenever, wherever and with whomever I wanted. I saw fame as being akin to living in a high-security prison and I didn’t want to go there. How can you win just enough and then leave the table? Go to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting and you’ll see it’s easier said than done. I’d have to be very careful to not let things get out of control. I resolutely avoided looking at charts, bank balances, reviews, radio or television appearances, and carried on like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.”

“If I’ve got a Dad, and his name is Wormwood Rot, and he’s in some heavy metal rock band called Grave Dirt . . . then I’m definitely meeting him!She stares at me awkwardly, and I’m about to ask again—maybe even insist—when she says, “Honey, why do you think he’s on the news? Wormwood, I mean . . . your father? Becca, he’s . . . dead.”

“I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I’m miserable now.”