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tikistitchEvidently, it's Larry Niven.
True tiki story: when we wuz a baby tiki, and living in SoCal, we were once reading Lucifer's Hammer on a public bus. (As, tiki was one of the few residents of SoCal to not own a car.) (And, we had pretty bad taste in SF as a kid.)
A friendly, older guy (evidently the only other carless resident of SoCal besides us and Ray Bradbury) saw the book and struck up a conversation. He said that he personally knew one of the book's authors, though, at this point, we have no recollection whether it was Niven or the coauthor, Jerry Pournelle. Anyways, he said his wife had (briefly) worked for the guy, and evidently spent a great part of her working life running around the author's desk, being chased by said author, who intended to fondle her boobies, she being a woman, and PC being years and years into The Future.
True tiki story: when we wuz a baby tiki, and living in SoCal, we were once reading Lucifer's Hammer on a public bus. (As, tiki was one of the few residents of SoCal to not own a car.) (And, we had pretty bad taste in SF as a kid.)
A friendly, older guy (evidently the only other carless resident of SoCal besides us and Ray Bradbury) saw the book and struck up a conversation. He said that he personally knew one of the book's authors, though, at this point, we have no recollection whether it was Niven or the coauthor, Jerry Pournelle. Anyways, he said his wife had (briefly) worked for the guy, and evidently spent a great part of her working life running around the author's desk, being chased by said author, who intended to fondle her boobies, she being a woman, and PC being years and years into The Future.
