I can be a glamorous star. I can be a hero. I can even be a man.
There’s only one down side…killing my characters off. For example, when I write something like my father (or mother, or sister) was dying, I always phone my real father, mother or sister, just to make sure. It’s just a crazy superstition but it really drives me crazy.
Other than that…I love my job!
The End.
Oh! What have I done?