Q: Are you a liar?
No. I’m pathologically honest. I’m more like Harriet in Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh. I blurt out things I should keep to myself. But I love, love, love to make up stuff which is why I write fiction and I will never write a memoir. Who wants to write about stuff you already know?
Q: Is your Mom really mean?
No. I didn’t model Mrs. MacPherson after my mom. My mom is a real dog lover. Currently she lavishes all her attention on a Great Dane named Max, who is not the kind of dog you would expect a little old lady to have. I worry she’ll be beat to death by his tail for one thing. And then there’s the slobber factor. Do you have any idea how much spit Great Danes produce?
Q: Has a lion ever peed on you?
Yes. When I was about nine, I was totally horse crazy. I spent every waking hour at the stable near my house. Caroline, the lady who owned the barn, was a nut case who patched together a living in a thousand assorted ways. She ran a horse camp for girls, a horse hauling business and she rented horses to the movie industry. More often than not, all of these professions would require her attention at the same time.
On one such occasion, she loaded a pure white Arabian horse, who was destined to be a "unicorn" in a Hollywood movie, into her horse trailer. Then she collected me and the other girl who was attending her weekend horse camp and we drove through the night to a movie animal farm in Solvang. When we arrived, it was 3 a.m. I followed Caroline into this enormous white tent filled with cages of exotic animals. One of the animals, a lion, quickly turned his hind end toward me and sprayed me with urine. Everybody thought this was hilarious except me, of course. I was horribly embarrassed.
Q: What does your sister think of this book?
My sister is very politesomebody had to get the good manners in the familyit's difficult to know what she thinks.
Q: Did you have a nose job?
No. I like my nose. I come from a long line of women with big butts though, and sometimes I put myself to sleep imagining the sucking noise of one of those cellulite machines transforming my big hind end into a petite little bathing-suit-size one. I’ve never had the courage or the money to do it though.
Q: Are you good at math?
No. In my family the only important subject was English. My dad said it was fine to flunk everything else, but I had to get an ‘A’ in English.
Q: Were you the favorite child?
I wasn’t my mom’s favorite, that’s for sure. I like to think I was my father’s favorite, but I don’t really know, for certain.