She can write her truth and miss nothing out – heart attacks, miscarriages, beatings, blood gushing, sex, poverty, mayhem, men and vodka - and always with that beautiful self-deprecating sense of humour common to the British.Īfter suffering a miscarriage, followed by a heart attack and having stopped breathing in intensive care she signs herself out of the hospital, clothing caked in dried blood, because there’s nobody at home to see to the animals. Harpie’s goal in writing ‘Vodka’ is to prove to the cynics that it can be done. This is no jump on the bandwagon 'pity me' story, as the vein of humour running through every chapter is testament. More than a modern-day and quirky diary, this is the story of one woman’s life in a typical English small town, encompassing the characters, texture and mentality of everyday living, told with brutal and shameless honesty while all the while cross-threading with a struggle for survival and acceptance. In 'Vodka' Harpie uncovers the missing parts her lost childhood. With the help of a clinical psychologist and regressive hypnotism, she revisits the past as she dips in and out of Now and Then. They include the mystery surrounding her mother’s murder. Harpie has memories buried deep in shadowy parts of her subconscious that she’s never been able to reach. All this is tied up and interwoven with her love of her young son, Mike. And then there were others who abused her physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually. Harpie’s deepest and most intimate feelings gush from her, revealing anxieties ranging from her feelings for her mother, who died in tragic and suspicious circumstances, to her resentment towards her father. In Harpie’s wacky, psycho, screwball, demented book she bares her soul, revealing her innermost thoughts, slashing a metaphoric vein and bleeding onto the page
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