So there’s a box. And it’s padlocked. With a real padlock. I’ve been sent a code... To reveal padding and a letter...

When a very rich but ethically challenged publisher simply refused to pay me, and said “Sue me if you don’t like it”, (as I learned he had done to other creators) I sued him and his company. I won on all counts. I won on appeal. I won again on the points they challenged on. But—

https://twitter.com/julietemckenna/status/1329462334100807680

I was only able to afford to sue him because I had become a NYT bestselling author. His legal tactic was to “paper” me: his legal team filed pointless motions that my team had to respond to, costing me money. (His lawyers were covered by his insurance, I was paying for mine. )

I thought I'd try an experiment, and actually put up here as a series of tweets, the Poem I wrote about warmth for @Refugees

It's called "What You Need to be Warm".

#KnitForRefugees.
unhcr.org/belowzero/ A baked potato of a winter's night to wrap your hands around or burn your mouth.
A blanket knitted by your mother's cunning fingers. Or your grandmother's.
A smile, a touch, trust, as you walk in from the snow
or return to it, the tips of your ears pricked pink and frozen.