I would like to know what it looks like inside this author’s head, Ingalill Mosander, literary critic of Swedish evening paper Aftonbladet, said when she spoke about my first book, Caipirinha with Death. With a smile, but still, and of course I have sometimes wondered myself. Now I might have an answer.
My mother finally told me where I was conceived – in famous Swedish poet Bo Setterlind’s writing apartment in the town of Strängnäs. My mother studied there to be a teacher and for some reason she, and dad, had gotten permission to borrow the apartment. The door was decorated with a sliver of the moon, in the roof angels were dancing and a skull was placed on the desk. If that is not a good enough reason for being exactly who I am? Maybe we should all ask where we were conceived. It could explain a lot.