Margaret Finnegan is the author of the acclaimed (by her mother) novel The Goddess Lounge. We talked to her in her spacious (when compared to a tent) home, where she served us Venus nipple cocktails and shrimp on a stick.
MF: It's been a whirlwind! Just the other day my brother-in-law said, "Congratulations! You must be so excited." To which I replied, "Shut up! Leave me alone. I'm not listening." And then I hid in the garage.
IR: Ha, ha. You are so funny. Were you always this funny?
MF: No really. I hid in the garage, and somehow it got locked, and they only found me when they needed to do laundry, which was disappointing because I had been sleeping on a pile of tablecloths. The floor was very hard after that.
IR: But how does it feel to go from anonymous blogger/writer to celebrity author and sometimes escort of Colin Firth and Ewan McGregor?
MF: I don't know what you are implying. We're all just good friends.
IR: Come now. You can tell us. We won't tell a soul.
MF: My, my look at the time. Your shrimp on a stick is looking a little sickly. Shall we get you another?
IR: One more question. Is it true that JK Rowling called to offer you advice on how to survive the media throngs?
MF: She didn't call. It was at the secret famous authors' club. Don't get me started on the initiation rituals. But, believe me, you do not want to mess with Steven King when he's wearing a thong and holding a live chicken.