Isaac Thackray wrote this book while sitting on an uncomfortable metal stool near the kitchen window. He has written a lot of things on that stool and near that window. He’d be happy to list them but you might keel over from boredom. And so might he. Then you’d both be laying there unconscious and someone could come along and pick your pockets. I’m not sure how that would be for you but for Isaac, it would be no good at all. Authors need all the money they can get.