The hovel on Hayhurst. Writers are supposed to slave in poverty--part of the dues one pays for the love of the craft. I lived in this 400-odd square foot house for more than 20 years. I wrote and sold The Grey Pilgrim inside its drafty walls and under its perpetually leaking roof (fortunately, it doesn't rain much in Tucson). Here's documentation of our city's heaviest ever snowfall, 6.8 inches on December 8, 1971, forcing closure of Tucson International Airport (the airport didn't own a snowplow).