Q: Nina Shepard, dog walker extraordinaire, is a very accessible character. She's quirky and has a great sense of humor, but most of all, she is irrepressible. Sort of like an unsinkable Molly Brown for the ages. Why was it important for you to write her that way?
A: Life is hard. For everybody. Of course, hard is relative, different for you or me. But everyone has to be irrepressible just to survive in this crazy world. You have setbacks and disappointments and you go on. Nina is a heroine, and a hero must be brave enough, and resilient enough, to face life's onslaught. I sound a little depressed don't I? I'm not-but I am a glass-is-half-empty person, and it's that negative worldview that pushes me to write, to do anything, to live, to love. You have to be stubborn and willful to have a good life.

Q: Your characters are very vivid and funny. Do you have a favorite character in The Dog Walker? Do you relate to one character more than the other?
A: Nina, is, of course, the character to whom I'm closest. We both worked as copy writers in book publishing and we both have a dog and we both hate Hummers - but most importantly, we're emotional twins. Her insecurities, her desires, her fears - they're mine. But all the characters are meaningful to me in some way. I love Bono, for much of him is in my own 8-year-old-twin son and daughter. My son uses wacky lines from movies in his normal, everyday speech and my daughter is totally competent and reliable like Bono, who's more mature than Nina. And Claire, Nina's best friend, is an amalgamation of my own best friends. But Isaiah-I don't know him at all, but would love to! When I write, it's all about my characters. I hear them, I feel them, I know them, and because of who they are, the story takes shape and things happen. It all comes out of character.

Q: The details in many of the scenes in The Dog Walker are very specific. How do you imagine yourself into the scenes of your novels? Do you find it difficult to understand the pain and suffering that your characters go through, if you yourself have not experienced the same degree of suffering?
A: Trust me, I have suffered! I have stepped in dog poop. My knee was dislocated in Central Park by a leaping shih tzu. And, my heart has been broken. Many scenes in the book come from real experience, though, as all writers do, I have re-imagined them to make them funnier, more dramatic, and more moving than in real life.

Q: In The Dog Walker, you describe New York City to the letter. How does living in the city or being a New Yorker affect your characters?
A: New York City is a character in my book. Though I appreciate many cities and love a few, there is simply no city as rich, as uncompromising, as alive as New York. So many different kinds of people, all under one roof, sharing subway seats, sidewalks, narrow grocery store aisles. It's a wonder they don't kill each other more than they do! And you make friends in the most unlikely of places. My kids and I have "bus friends." These are people we've met on New York City busses, on our way to school, who we've enjoyed and even invited to each other's homes. Friends from public transportation! As much as I fantasize about life in other places where you drive in your own car, listening to music and singing out loud, to work, to the dry cleaner or the supermarket, I would miss the community of New York.

Q: As a publisher, you have influenced a host of authors. Who have been the most influential authors to you, and how have they helped shape you as a writer?
A: I have a new respect for all writers. Writing is hard! Sitting down and facing that blank page is horrifying. But, specifically, writers who have influenced me include Nick Hornby, because he writes funny and moving brilliantly. Elmore Leonard, because his dialogue is pitch-perfect, and perfectly in character. Anne Tyler because her characters are quirky and eccentric, yet entirely real. Stephen King's non-fiction and his essays, because they are funny and ferocious and full of truth. Anna Quindlan who is simply a beautiful storyteller. Edith Wharton because The House of Mirth made me weep. Jane Austen and and Erica Jong because they were writing funny and sexy and relevant novels before it was referred to as "chick lit." And Ernest Hemingway, because his Nick Adams stories make me so pissed-off with their macho posturing that I want to scream. And if a writer gets you so mad, he's doing something right.

Q: What do you consider to be the greatest challenge that you face as a fiction writer?
A: Sitting down and writing. Every day. Without knowing where a story or a thought is going, and letting it take you there, wherever there is. As an editor I used to say that the difference between writers and everyone else is that they do it. Sure, many writers have unique talent, but for most, they just do it. The actual sitting down and facing that blank page is the greatest challenge for me. Oh yeah, and then there's the part about writing something that someone else might want to read. That too. That's also challenging. And writing it well. That's a big challenge. Oh yeah, and knowing what to write about in the first place. That's challenging too.



Q: The Dog Walker touches on a number of poignant themes, such as real love vs. infatuation. Is there a message that you wish your readers would take away from your novels? Any issues that you would like to get people thinking about?
A: I think that this book, for me, is mostly about desire. For love, first and foremost. For connection, for stuff you want and cannot have. What Nina learns, and I suppose what I want to say to readers, is that there is stuff you'll never have, and much of that stuff is meaningless. Like Nina's obsession for nice bedding. Of course it's not about the bedding at all, but being cherished by someone so much that you feel worthy of nice bedding. The important stuff? You'll find a way to get it. That is what life is about: getting the good stuff, like love, family, friends and, well, See's Chocolate.

The theme of "imposters" intrigues me as well. People pretending to be what they are not. People not believing enough in themselves that they feel they have to pretend to be something other than who they really are. Nina is insecure, Billy is insecure and yet both of them are special. Don't you know a million people like that?

Also, ever since I was a child, I had this habit of looking into people's windows as we drove past, imagining the lives inside. Even today, as I walk or drive through the city, or even as I look out my apartment windows, I often wonder what is going on inside other people's homes. Is everyone having a dinner party but me? Does everybody have perfect bedding? Are people living rich, full, happy, perfect lives or are their lives like most: full of laughter and pain, joys and disappointments. I'm more interested in why one fantasizes about others' lives than the other lives themselves.

Q: And finally, how are dog people different from other humans?
A: Dog people share their beds, their dining utensils, their laps and their hearts with hairy four-legged creatures that lick their own genitals. Therefore, dog people are simply more compassionate, more egalitarian, more accepting than other humans.