The first thing I ever published was typed out on a Smith-Corona electric typewriter at my dining table with a baby on my lap, two toddlers harassing a big white cat, and a dog chewing up my flip flops. This morning, I have been working on the sequel to The Last Dance, my toes being gnawed on by one kitty, another lying across my chest, and two others plopping toy mice on the keyboard. Who said “times change”?