There is something about the South that accepts the supernatural. If you don't accept it and you're having a conversation with someone who does it's just one of those polite things where you don't question their belief in ghosts. You just go 'Oh yeah okay.' It's amazing to be able to have conversations like that.

Largely this is a class thing - writers tend to be cosseted little middle-class kiddies who think that the world owes them a royalty cheque. But just doing it - being in your room for years on end locked in your head alone with invented ghosts - it weakens and softens the body. And I know I can't just live in my head.