I am not sure this is what Joan Didion meant. If this mad child turned up at my door, I’d be reluctant to let her in. Tonight I went to my friend Willo’s house: we have been best friends (a few teenaged discrepancies aside) since we were both 11, and she has an envelope containing much of our correspondence from the 11-16 period. Although I first read “Play It As It Lays” a couple of years ago due to the recommendation of a favourite singer, I first read this quote about “nodding terms” in something Tavi Gevinson wrote (look, Didion is not so much a byword for clued-in teens over here, okay), and coincidentally, I wrote these chronically insubstantial, daft letters at the age I think she is now. Moral of the story: you were always much dumber than you remember yourself, even if you were supposedly some kind of child genius.