Regina
I had invited Astrid Hooper out to the Purple Unicorn to meet my friends on several occasions. Although it was generally frowned upon for editors to have relationships with their writers outside professional bounds, Astrid was just too fun.
Unfortunately, she always turned me down. She said her medical condition, myalgic encephalomyelitis, made it too difficult for her to engage in a lot of social activities. She felt her best when she just spent quiet evenings at home with her hubby and her two almost-grown children, and her dog. Her energy, she had explained, was very fragile, and the worst thing she could do was let herself become exhausted.
I understood her position, more so now than ever before. I felt like I had pushed myself beyond exhaustion. I dragged myself into the Pur
