Talking about pumpkins doesn't make them grow.

International business, once allowed to stalk uncontrolled, killed the local, the small, the quirky.

Each of us is born into our own mysteries but the mystery of another might just take us in and embrace us. And then what a sense of homecoming, of belonging!

Every novel presents a slice of life. A noir policier for example presents one slice, one that perhaps addresses social dysfunction or some sort of pathology, while mine present a slice that is more upbeat and affirmative.

There are old mycologists and there are bold mycologists, but there are no old, bold mycologists.

But don't we often lie to people we love, or not tell them things, precisely because we love them?

That my philosophy of life is, as far as possible, one of enjoyment. I'm not nihilistic.