My little black book is full of dead people.
Long dead, in most cases.
Instead of listing possible hook-ups, sure-thing dates and ‘always there for you’ pals, my go-to book records names of past people whose unique, extraordinary lives beg to be put to story. It is a wish list, if you like, of my novels-to-be.
Silly and a wee-bit pathetic? Absolutely.
But I like to think of it as a wee-bit extraordinary as well.