When people asked me what I wore to write, I used to have an easy answer: whatever I have on. Jeans, cut-offs, a T-shirt, possibly pyjamas and a housecoat. Whatever. I mean, who’s going to see me, right? I’m sitting alone at a computer desk in my house. A New York publisher is unlikely to walk by. My normal companion is my dog, and all she cares about is whether or not we have enough food and cookies and popcorn and water to last the day, and whether or not I’ll remember to take her for a walk and make [ Read more...]
Aug 072008