Will the President’s Daughter books ever be reprinted?

Yes. All three books will be coming out in Fall 2008. I would really like to do a great deal of rewriting, to get rid of the sections which are dated–and the sections which are poorly written–but that might take decades. I’ll probably make some minor cosmetic changes, like trying to integrate the Internet into the books. Back when I was in college and started writing them, I was not clever enough to understand how easily books can turn into relics of the past–by something as simple as a character watching Hill Street Blues, or something of that nature.

Where is your favorite place to write?

Everywhere. Nowhere. I don’t know. It is very boring, but mostly, I work at a desk behind a computer screen. I get a lot done on various forms of transportation, though–during long subway rides, train trips, and such. It bothers my eyes to look at the page when I’m in a moving object, so I keep my eyes closed the whole time, and then have trouble reading what I wrote when I get home. Oddly, most of those scenes go into the books with barely any changes at all. I revise a great deal, but it’s usually nit-picky nuances and polishing–rarely anything major. The most pleasant writing is when I first wake up, and lie there as long as possible, writing in my head. Often, it’s a scene from a book I don’t expect even to start for another few years, but I quite enjoy it–and have written many scenes 20 or 30 times that way before ever putting a word on paper.

What is your favorite book?

I definitely can’t pick one. All sorts of books would make my list, for many different reasons. In This House of Brede, by Rumer Godden is a wonderful novel. We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson. The Things They Carried by Tim O’ Brien–especially the story about the cheerleader who goes to Vietnam–and loses her mind. Dispatches, by Michael Herr. Anything at all by Anne Tyler. Gone with the Wind–mostly because I was born in Atlanta. Robert Parker is usually slumming these days, but I still read all of his books. I probably read more non-fiction than fiction, as a rule, but that is almost never for the prose itself, which tends to be workmanlike, at best.

How do you get your inspiration for Preston’s outfits?

I am the least fashionable person in the world–and pleased when my sweatpants and t-shirt sort of match on a given day. I have no idea where Preston came from as a character–or why he wears the things he does. He just sort of popped into my head full-blown, although his clothes are becoming increasingly conservative, as he moves through his career. There’s an outfit the President wears in Long May She Reign which just felt absolutely perfect for the scene–but I completely made it up, in an apparent fit of whimsy. I almost never shop, I don’t look at catalogs, I don’t read fashion magazines–in short, I don’t have a clue. Sometimes, I vary the color of my caps or sunglasses to go with my pathetically casual outfits, but that’s about it.

What’s your favorite recipe?

Gosh, I have no idea. I love to cook, but rarely use recipes–despite owning several hundred cookbooks. Sometimes, I’ll look at several of them, to get some thoughts, but I usually just make something based upon whatever I happen to have handy. I’m one of those annoying people who goes to restaurants, tastes something, and then goes home and re-creates it, just for fun. My mother taught me to cook, and she’s an improviser in the same way. She always had a well-deserved reputation for being the best cook in town, and I am not at her level, alas.

I mostly cook ethnic food–since that’s mostly what I eat. Chinese, Mexican, Indian, and so forth. I can’t abide seafood, so I have to cheat when I make Thai or Vietnamese food, and downplay the fish sauce, if not eliminating it altogether. I wish I could make plantains as well as they do at my favorite local Dominican restaurant, but I’ve yet to get them to caramelize as successfully as I would like.

When did you first fall in love with the Red Sox?

I was six years old when the Red Sox first entered my life. The sound of the game on the radio was an ever-present background noise while I was growing up in New England, and the team got me early. Carl Yastrzemski was my big hero, even though I couldn’t pronounce his name. My father took me to my first game at Fenway when I was seven, and he says I spent just about the entire time saying, “Where’s Yastrzemski?”, and he would patiently point him out, and I would nod–and about a minute and a half later, ask, “Where’s Yastrzemski?”

For many years, my love for the Red Sox was mostly unrequited. I began to think of them as the classic Bad Boyfriend who perpetually does awful things, but always apologizes and promises that he’s going to change and will never do it again–only to fall back in old ways immediately. The Patriots became the Nice Boyfriend–far too easy to overlook, because they quietly and professionally lived up to all possible expectations, by improbably winning Super Bowls. The sad part, is that the Patriots are glorious–and yet, I would often hear New Englanders say, “Yeah, the Super Bowls are great, but my God, wouldn’t you trade it for one World Series in a split second?”–and other New Englanders would nod unhappily in response.

In 2004, for a few magical weeks, the Red Sox finally returned our love in full. It would be swell if they won another someday, but I honestly don’t care whether they do–as long as the Yankees don’t either.

Any day when the Yankees lose is a good day.