Before I left the 'Star' last year to write books full-time, I welcomed catastrophe. It was material. Missed planes, broken pipes, dead lawns, digestive disorders, you name it, if it was something that had gone horribly wrong, it was worth banging out 600 words about.
“For years I wrote in my basement. More recently I graduated to one floor above, an office with all my books and music and - ta da! - a window.”
“People try to make a Greek tragedy of my life, and they can't do it. I'm too happy.”