I Went Grey At 12, My Eyesight

He Seemed Wild And Dangerous And Carefree--well, He Would, Would'nt He? What Were Motorcycles And Black Leather Pants If Not The Uniform Of A Wild, Dangerous And Carefree Man?

I'm Proud Of What I Write And Feel Endorsed By My Readers.

Besides, I'd Seen A Really Nice Pair Of Shoes Yesterday In The Mall And I Wanted Them For My Own. I Can't Describe The Feeling Of Immediate Familiarity That Rushed Between Us. The Moment I Clapped Eyes On Them I Felt Like I Already Owned Them. I Could Only Suppose That We Were Together In A Former Life. That They Were My Shoes When I Was A Serving Maid In Medieval Britain Or When I Was A Princess In Ancient Egypt. Or Perhaps They Were The Princess And I Was The Shoes. Who's To Know? Either Way I Knew That We Were Meant To Be Together.

I Used To Write In Bed, Starting When I Woke Up. I Believe That Creative Work Comes From Our Subconscious Mind, So I Try To Keep The Gap Between Sleep And Writing As Minimal As Possible.

For Feel-good Fiction To Work, There Has To Be An Element Of Darkness.