As promised, we have Paula Morris on LeafSalon in an online interview. She’s spending a couple of weeks at the Michael King centre in Devonport working on some short stories, and reading for a Penguin anthology she’s editing. There are some pictures of the view up on her blog.

Paula’s latest book out, Trendy But Casual (Penguin, $28), is one that lots of you have probably already read. It damn well kept me up till all hours laughing long and loud, getting elbowed by my husband and being completely knackered the next day. I won’t review it here, it’s been done, but suffice to say, if you want a good laugh that makes you work a bit; a main character who’s impeccably attired, without being afraid to get really good and grungy when necessary, get this book. Meanwhile, let’s get back to Paula, a woman with a history, who’s chosen to live in a most interesting part of the world.

Q: Let’s go right back to the days of eduction: why York University? And the D.Phil – do you often consciously use that in your writing? What prompted the move to publicity?

A: I went over to England the month after I turned 20, after graduating from the University of Auckland. Initially I planned to do an MA in York, but it turned into something bigger: I stayed at university there for three years. My doctorate is in English/Women Studies, on the literature of the American South. This is where my interest in all things Southern began, I guess. While I was a graduate student I made my first trip to New Orleans, and became very interested in things like the Quadroon balls. This was all put to use in my first novel, Queen of Beauty. (And now I live there.)

Having an advanced degree proved useful in other ways: it helped me get my Green Card, when I was working for a record company in New York, and it probably helped me get my current job at Tulane University.

Q: So you spent the nineties working in publicity in London and New York. How did you manage to keep your liver functioning? Did you ever have to deal with a large, dyed animal mascot – or worse? [The main character of TBC, Jane, is in publicity in New York, and one of her main clients is a musician called Rapstallion who takes a white horse with a dyed bright pink mane with him wherever he and his ostentatious gold jewellery-wearing entourage goes.]

A: Actually, I only worked in publicity in London. In New York I defected to the boring side - marketing - but the threat to the liver remained constant, I suppose. There were enjoyable aspects to my career, like going to festivals and conferences all over the US, Canada, Mexico, Spain, France, Germany, etc; going to the Grammys (and, even better, the after-parties); eating and drinking at a lot of swish places; hearing a lot of music, etc. But it was more conference calls and sales presentations rather than horses with pink manes, unfortunately. I got to race off to Paris, but I also had to race off to Detroit.

Q: In the Tim Winton interview at the Writers and Readers Festival, Stephanie Johnson quoted: ‘Asking a writer if his work is autobiographical is like asking a spider where it buys its thread.’ Tim responded: ‘Yeah – you just pull it out your arse.’ So assuming TBC is indeed autobiographical to one degree or another, did you know you were going to write it at the time? Did you take notes?

A: That's a great answer from Tim Winton! Trendy But Casual is not terribly autobiographical, really. I'll be conceited, and tell you this: I was a good publicist, and often in the dark days in New York I wondered why I moved out of that career. (The only solution was to take up fiction-writing - the jobs are similar, though fiction doesn't pay as well at first and the clothes aren't as good.) But, of course, some scenes in the book draw on my experience. For example, the only strip club I've ever been to is Scores, hence its inclusion as a setting - I went with a friend who was a publicist. Another friend was promoted at her company and forced to deal with an image consultant who made her buy new clothes: I used her experience for the character of Frances. I know a reasonable amount about Brooklyn because I lived there for seven years, in Cobble Hill and then Brooklyn Heights; when I first moved there, some of my colleagues mocked me for living on the wrong side of the river. And, as some people already know, I'm obsessed with reality TV and wanted to include as many jokes about that as possible. But the vast majority of the novel is made up, or relies on ridiculously heightened version of real places, eg the downtown bar where the philosophy-themed bridal shower takes place, or the Guggenheim, where skateboarding waiters serve drinks at RapStallion's launch.

Q: What’s your personal definition of chick-lit and why did you decide to parody it?

A: A broad definition: chick lit is romantic comedy written by and for women (Or it's a marketing term slapped on anything comic written by women, to classify, contain, and dismiss.) The novel parodies some of the conventions of romantic comedy, eg the ever-absent and unattainable hero, the tyranny of bad timing, the riding off into the sunset on a horse, the plucky heroine's epiphany/self-realisation, the gang of "supportive" friends, etc. Jane Shore isn't the kind of heroine you root for or relate to, and she doesn't really reform, and she doesn't really fall in love. She doesn't triumph over anything or come to terms or learn something. She just gets one comeuppance after the other and manages to crawl out the other side clutching the tattered banner of her self-esteem.

Q: Graeme Reid, in a NZ Book Month blog last year bemoaned the fact that NZers spend so much time writing grim books and we need much more comedy. Agree / disagree?

A: I must agree, of course, because I've written a comedy. And more comedy is always better than less.

Q: The only thing that made me a bit uncomfortable about TBC is that the lead character, Jane, like certain friends of mine, is very funny and clever at reducing a person to a minutely observed Type, from clothes, shoes and hair to probable home and bathroom products, who she or he votes for and their private obsessions. I always think they’ll go away and do it about me. Do you think people can be summed up as a bunch of types – even whole nations, perhaps?

[e.g. re night classes: ‘Any class that seemed bearable also seemed like it would be full of earnest young women in beige pantyhose and big red-rimmed glasses, those girls who always wear their purses slung across their coats for safety’s sake, the kind of coats that have those Indian print scarves draped around the shoulders, the way actresses like Amy Irving used to dress in films set on the Upper West Side’.]

A: Do I personally sum people up as types? No. It's not very useful for fiction writers, who create characters, to see people as one-dimensional or as stereotypes. But Jane is a very judgmental person - and it can be funny or it can be mean, depending on the reader's sense of humour. The way she judges and dismisses reflects her view of the world, and the things she clings to. Jane needs to be extreme in her opinions for her comic downfall to work. Two of my literary role models were Ignatius Reilly of Confederacy of Dunces and Jim Dixon of Lucky Jim. They're not moderate men.

Q: Jane is brought to her knees with one life-blow after another, before she hits rock bottom and stops being so shallow… is the unexamined life worth living?

A: Jane is still very shallow at the end of the novel: she's busy criticising Jane Eyre because she didn't have a publicist. Like Ignatius and Jim, who both make their escapes, she's making an escape too, of sorts. But like them, Jane's essentially still the same flawed person.

Q: That whole celebrity thing: do you buy into it personally? Would your pulse rate change if you sat next to Johnny Depp on a plane or has being in publicity killed the magic for you? Have you seen Sam Taylor Wood’s video of David Beckham sleeping at MOMA and if so what do you think of that?

A: I haven't been to New York (or MOMA) for several years, I'm afraid. I enjoy celebrity nonsense, and visit funny sites like Perez Hilton's every day. And if I sat next to Johnny Depp on the plane I would be memorizing every detail to report back to my fifteen-year-old niece. But I wasn't one of those record business people who have their photo taken with every artist who comes into the office. I'm happy to spot celebrities, but I don't want to pretend to be their friend.

Q: The obligatory technique question: Paul Cleave averages 10,13,000 words a day, and wrote his best-selling (in Germany) novel The Cleaner in six weeks. What do you average, or hope to average when you’re writing?

A: Truman Capote once said of (the more prolific) Jack Kerouac: "That's not writing, that's typewriting." But really, everyone does things differently. A good amount for me is about 1500 or 2000 words. I can do more if I'm up against a deadline, but I'd rather not.

Q: How was the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival for you? How does it rate on the world scale? What was your favourite session?

A: The festival was brilliant - really well-run, in a good venue, with lots of interesting writers and panels. My only complaint is that there were too many competing sessions. My favourite was Pico Iyer: I interviewed him for the Listener before the festival, and he was just as charming, articulate and thoughtful in person as he was over the phone. Kapka Kassabova was an excellent chair, as well.

Q: Zelda commented on LeafSalon that she thought you were THE BEST (as chair for Rachael Seiffert). Do you prefer interviewing, being interviewed or being part of a panel?

A: That's very kind. I enjoyed interviewing Rachel Seiffert, and like her - and her books - very much. Acting as MC for the big "Friday Night with the Stars" made me extremely anxious, but the writers were all great, both at reading and at asking each other questions, and I was happy (and relieved) that it went so well. I like interviewing people generally, but it helps if they're affable.

Taking part in a panel is a great opportunity to talk about your own work. The panel I was on ended up a bit of a wash, for various reasons, which was a shame. These things happen ...

Q: Now we get to what I’d like to call the Weekend Paper part of the interview: you’ve had lots of people ask you intelligent, meaningful questions. I’d like to know the answer to ten silly questions (some of which I’ve nicked from the Sunday Star Times:

What do you do on a Friday night / Sunday morning (in New Orleans)?
On Friday nights we either go to a movie at Canal Place, down in the French Quarter, or we have dinner at Taqueria Corona, a great Mexican restaurant uptown. On Sunday mornings my husband goes out to get croissants and coffee. (Though I've given up coffee, so these days I drink Moroccan Mint green tea.) We watch the news shows (Meet the Press on NBC and This Week on ABC) and I do the crossword in The New York Times magazine.

Favourite New Orleans bad snack?
Everything in New Orleans is bad for you. Maybe beignets from Café du Monde? They're deep-fried dough squares covered in icing sugar. Delicious.

Can you give us a real-life Very Bad Day from your own past life in publicity?
A Hollywood publicist accompanying a Big Star made my life miserable: I had a week of European press planned - radio, TV, newspapers, magazines - and he spent the week undermining, changing things and cancelling interviews. On the fourth day, when he decided on a whim to cancel the BBC Radio One interview, I cried. After that he was very nice to me and everything was fine. I realised that I should have cried on the first day.

Worst current fashion mistake?
Mine or fashion's? Skinny jeans are only for the very skinny: they look awful on most women. And I can't get enthused about dress shorts or the return of leggings. I wore leggings to high school in 1981, and this means I'm too old to wear them now.

Bring back...?
The mid-calf pencil skirt, the kind with a long slit up the back, worn with high heels.

What’s the most outrageous thing in your wardrobe? Your bathroom?
I used to have a ridiculous green suede fringed jacket, bought in Manchester, but I don't know where it is now. The only outrageous thing in my bathroom is the vast number of make-up brushes.

What are you currently reading?
I'm reading lots of stories for a Penguin anthology I'm editing, but I'm about to start the novels on the Montana shortlist - the ones I haven't read - so I can write a piece for the Listener.

What’s the one book that’s had the most effect on you?
The first that comes to mind is one of Alice Munro's story collections, The Love of a Good Woman.

Most annoying American celebrity?
So many! Paris, perhaps, though jail may reform her.

Who would be your ideal American president?
I'm keen for Gore to run. We'll see.

Well, there we are. Thanks very much to Paula for submitting to being questioned. Good luck with upcoming work, and we'll hopefully see you back here soon... I heard a rumour of the Going West festival... watch this space.