The best of friends, JK Rowling and I shared a Victorian villa by the seaside. She lived on the top floor, and my flat was below.
One morning I looked out of the window and noticed a series of white-painted wooden stakes placed lengthways between the shore and the sand dunes. In a line, they cordoned off three quarters of our “share” of the beach. When I asked Jo what was going on, she explained that this section of our supposedly jointly-owned beachfront now belonged exclusively to her.
With my sister J’s avant garde floating sticky film canister sculpture casting a shadow over half of the lawn from a height of about six feet, this meant that I now had hardly any access to space for relaxing outdoors.
JK Rowling features on Dreamaticus quite frequently. You’ll also find her here:
Dreamaticus 