I admit it. I secretly had fantasies of what a writer's life is like. I imagined myself sitting on the front porch, looking out over a lake, pounding away at the keys. All else was taken care of, magically, I suppose. It was my fantasy, I never left the porch. I have an inkling that my dream was perhaps a bit skewed. LOL Stop laughing, okay, maybe a chuckle. It is funny.
The fantasy is generally better than the reality and that's why we write. So, what are your fantasies of an author's life?