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I RECKLESSLY ordered a brown ale, while my friend the Famous SF Author satisfied himself with an orange juice and his pipe: he's had to cut down on the drink, on doctor's orders. What with holding down a ‘proper’ job and producing SF novels to a publisher's deadline, his constitution has been undergoing some harsh punishment recently. In the end he had to throw up the ‘proper’ job and become a full‐time author. (In any case, he can't afford to drink at current pub prices.)