People never visit? The phone never rings? No-one ever writes to you? Your in-box remains empty? You feel lonely and neglected.
The answer is simple. Start a novel. Within ten minutes of sitting down to write the first chapter I guarantee the phone will ring. It's amazing. It's almost as if they're out there watching you.
Patiently explain why you don't want to switch the balance of your lifetime debt onto your credit card to some guy in India. Hang up in exasperation, pulse racing. Calm down. Now, where was I?
Half way through that first chapter and trying to get it all down before you lose the thread? Don't worry, that's someone at the door. Jesus. No, thanks, I don't want to buy any more double glazing. No, honestly, thanks. Yes, it does sound amazingly cheap. It's just that my present windows, well, you know, I can see through them perfectly okay. Sorry. What? Please, don't cry. I know it's hard being a double-glazing salesman and you have my sympathy. But, hey, try being a novelist.
Get back to the screen, sit down, now where was I? The phone rings again! Jesus, what the fuck...? Oh sorry, what, next Friday? Well, I was planning to stay in and write my masterpiece but...okay... thanks. Right, it's been ages. See you then, then.
Fuck, better check my e-mail. Jesus, look at all these bloody questions. Why does everybody want everything right away? I suppose I'll have to answer them or I'll never be able to concentrate.
Back at the computer at last. The front door slams. "Honey, I'm home." Oh shit. Forgot about her. What time is it? Shit. Should have had the tea ready by now.
"What are you doing up there?"
"Nothing, dear." And that's the truth. Dammit.