Writers Sheila Heti and Miranda July on their special relationship

'Our friendship is very beautiful. It began with a big risk on my part and then a risk on Miranda’s side': Sheila Heti (left) about initiating a friendship with Miranda July

Our friendship is very beautiful. It began with a big risk on my part and then a risk on Miranda's side. A year and a half ago I was asked by Bad Day magazine to interview her. I nearly didn't do it, because sometimes you just have this impulse not to. But I was familiar with her work and I'd watched her movie The Future, so I came up with a bunch of questions. Two minutes in, she told me that she was pregnant, which was very open of her.

After chatting for an hour, I felt this crazy, excited sensation surging through me, and I'd never felt like that after an interview before before, so I called my friend Margot (I had to keep talking) and told her how inspired Miranda had made me.. As a journalist, you don't tend to interview people with a view to becoming their friend. You can't expect that. It's not professional. Or rational. I thought: "She'll think I want to be friends with her because she's Miranda July." But I felt a real human connection and decided not to look at the world that way. I had this instinct that we had a lot to say to each other. So I?took a leap of faith and emailed Miranda, suggesting that we speak for an hour once a week on the phone. I said I thought we had a lot to learn from each other, then I pressed "send".

A few days later I was feeling a little embarrassed because she hadn't replied, but finally she did. She said: "I had the exact same feeling!" and agreed that we should chat once a week. I was so pleased.

It was unusual to have a contract drawn up like that before we even had a friendship. Usually you don't have commitment promises in a friendship. Usually it just grows. But it was consistent: we started emailing all the time, spoke for an hour each week and built a profound friendship. One of the greatest points of pleasure in my day is getting an email from Miranda. The second is writing one back. We talk about our work, relationships, her child, how we're feeling that day or any troubles that we're having. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't say to her. We've met face to face about six times and got on just as well. There is lots of trust between us. Miranda's a big part of my life.

I was doing a ton of interviews when I met Sheila, so I was shocked that talking to her didn't feel like an interview. I was sort of taken aback by her email. I did a web search on her, which is embarrassing now – I'm cautious with people who reach out in such a forthright way. But as I read stuff she'd written and looked up her friends, who were all creative, I concluded: "Wow, I'm lucky that this person wants to talk to me for an hour a week. This girl knows what she's doing. We should be friends."

It's not always easy to make a close friend at this age. Maybe we needed that level of formality, a purpose. It feels like one of my first real adult friendships – there's not this need for parity that you get when you're younger. Or this merging. It's more intimate and more boundaried; we know what we both want. I longed for something that had the intimacy of childhood friendship – clothes, your bodies and boys – and where our lives as artists could play a huge role. We played catch-up for a while – showed each other pics of boyfriends past and present, filled each other in on our pasts.

It's a literary friendship, too. We critique each other's work. Sheila's a great support. When I had a baby I was consumed with my body. I sent her a pic of my milk-filled new breasts in the negligee I bought to make use of them. "Was that too much?" I asked. "No!" she replied. "Here are mine!"

I would love to see Sheila face to face more. There's a kind of built-in assumption that we will one day. It's amazing how little you can see people but still stay in regular contact. I've?never had a friendship like this before.

We Think Alone, a project by Miranda July, launched on 1 July. It was commissioned by Magasin 3 for On the Tip of My Tongue

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