you want it?”
She was simultaneously astonished, offended, and amused at the ridiculous
and arrogant notion that a mere man could write stories for girls. So that’s how
Puddin’ was born: I started writing first-person-female-adolescent stories-but not
for that old harridan.
Since this is not the first of the Puddin’ stories, let me introduce her.’
1-icr name is Maureen, her nickname derives from her weight problem. She is
eternally an undergraduate omi a small campus in Somewhere, U.S.A., iihere her
father teaches anthropology smokes his pipe, (01(1 ie(u/~–uii(‘iyns I1t~ niothier
1~ (I Re;iai~oiice 1’foi who does everything. Maureen has an unbearable younger
brother (all younger brothers are unbearable; I should know, I was one).
I grew so fond of Maureen that I helped her to get rid of that excess
weight, changed her name to “Podkayne,” and moved her to Mars (along with her
unbearable kid brother). And now and again she turns up under other names in other
science fiction stories.
Nevertheless Maureen still attends classes on this campus in
Never-Neverland. I had intended to do a full book of Puddin’ short stories under the
title MEN ARE EXASPERATING. I have enough stories for a fat volume hut a.s vet I
have not writ/en au of them down. One in
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