I am very fond of the color gray. Also black but I just consider that very, very dark gray. When I choose clothes in the morning what I’m really choosing is a shade of gray, and if I were writing me as a character in one of my books, I would consider that telling – and perhaps a little too obvious.

I had a roommate in college, Janice, who would plead with me at the mall, “Blue! Please for the love of God, buy something blue.”

Years later I did buy a navy t-shirt secondhand, so all was not lost.

For all its clichéd literary connotations, I just like the color gray. I have always liked it. It’s simple. It goes with everything and, in my favorite shade of charcoal, is quite fetching with a strand of pearls. You can’t go wrong.

I don’t think it says anything about my personality. Despite being currently at work on a book about a woman practicing her own death on a chicken carcass (you kind of have to read it in context), I am not morose or unhappy. I like bunny rabbits, ice cream and funny movies. My life is bright sunshine even if my wardrobe is fog and thunderstorms.

And here’s the thing about sticking with what you like. Eventually, if you wait long enough, you will be cool.

I went for my monthly pedicure and was easily talked into the hot new thing in nail lacquer, the color being featured in all the magazines: Dark Gray.

See, Janice? I was just ahead of my time.