P. G. Wodehouse

`The moment my fingers clutch a pen,' said Leila Yorke, `a great change comes over me. I descend to the depths of goo which you with your pure mind with wouldn't believe possible. I write about stalwart men, strong but oh so gentle, and girls with wide grey eyes and hair the colour of ripe wheat, who are always having misunderstandings and goign to Africa. The men, that is. The girls stay at home and marry the wrong bimbos. But there's a happy ending. The bimbos break their necks in the hunting field and the men come back in the last chapter and they and the girls get together in hte twilight, and all around is the scent of English flowers and birds singing their evensong in the shrubbery. Makes me shudder to think of it.'

Ice in the Bedroom (1961)