"How do you manage to think out brand new novels over and over again?" readers ask me many a time.

Yes, I must admit, it's a hell of a job to find the necessary inspiration.

On bad days, I spend many hours on research. Visiting the library, surfing the Internet, and overhearing other people's conversations to get my ideas. :-)

On good days, the ideas come to me. Just like that.

Lucky me?

No, not always! Read on and shiver. :-)

I've gotten an invitation for a meeting, and when the time's there, I put on my most beautiful clothes.

Nothing wrong with trying to look perfect, right?

I choose a pair of brand new matching shoes, and admire myself in the man-sized mirror. The shoes look great, and I'm looking fantastic too.

"This pubbed author will impress the complete audience with her immaculate appearance," I mutter to myself.

Smiling contentedly, I step into my car and take off.

After just a few minutes of driving, my toes start pricking and feeling weird.

I park my car on the parking lot of the huge building, and when I get out of the car, I almost take a header because of my wobbling high heels.

Ouch, I'd better walk very careful!

In a waddling way, I stagger to the entrance, and the moment I walk in, a voice tones behind me, "You're suffering from a hernia, right?"

Embarrassement heats my cheeks. "No um... Got new shoes."

The phrase hasn't even left my mouth when I feel my shoes glide over the floor. Good grief! What else can I expect with slippery high heels on a slippery floor?

A gallant elderly gentleman grabs my arm and prevents me from turning into the laughingstock of the century.

The rest of the evening is a complete disaster.

My feet are asleep, and hurt like hell. Pesky blisters burn on both heels and walking normally is out of the question.
And when I try to smile, all my face expresses is pain.

I can almost feel the compassionate gazes pricking into my sore skin. And it's so easy to read people's thoughts tonight. "That poor disabled soul," it vibrates in the air, "How courageous of her to come despite her lumbago."

I still don't know how I managed to return home safely, but as soon as my shoes touch my doormat, I kick them off, and change them for comfortable slippers.

On my sore feet I limp to the trash and smiling wickedly I throw the shoes onto the stinking pile of garbage.

So, that'll teach the jerks!

Next, I go upstairs to my computer and start typing, a sadistic grin curving my mouth.

My heroine has to give a very important lecture for a large audience, and she puts on brand new shoes when she goes there ...

Greetings from The Netherlands,