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'My imaginary children: a short little book I knocked off in six months, into which I poured all my anguish and gratitude for never having had offspring.'
My imaginary children: a short little book I knocked off in six months, into which I poured all my anguish and gratitude for never having had offspring, and fantasised about what sons or daughters I might have had. Being a novelist is such a blessing.'My imaginary children: a short little book I knocked off in six months, into which I poured all my anguish and gratitude for never having had offspring.'
My imaginary children: a short little book I knocked off in six months, into which I poured all my anguish and gratitude for never having had offspring, and fantasised about what sons or daughters I might have had. Being a novelist is such a blessing.