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"But writing is antisocial. It's as solitary as masturbation. Disturb a
writer when he is in the throes of creation and he is likely to turn and bite
right to the bone... and not even know that he's doing it. As writers' wives and
husbands often learn to their horror.
"And-attend me carefully, Gwen!-there is no way that writers can be tamed
and rendered civilized. Or even cured. In a household with more than one person,
of which one is a writer, the only solution known to science is to provide the
patient with an isolation room, where he can endure the acute stages in private,
and where food can be poked in to him with a stick. Because, if you disturb the
patient at such times, he may break into tears or become violent. Or he may not
hear you at all... and, if you shake him at this stage, he bites."
I smiled my best smile. "Don't worry, darling. At present
I am not working on a story and I will avoid starting one until we arrange
such an isolation chamber for me to work in. This place isn't big enough and
neither is yours. Mmm, even before we go to the hub, I want to call the
Manager's office and see what larger compartments are available. We'll need two
terminals also."
"Why two, dear? I don't use a terminal much."
"But when you do, you need it. When I'm using this one in wordprocessing
mode, it can't be used for anything else- no newspaper, no mail, no shopping, no
programs, no personal calls, nothing
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