All a writer wants is to be read, and people are so flattering and lovely. I mean, there are witches out there as well. But most are so kind.

Any relationship that you have is about negotiation - anything - whether there is a written contract or not.

I've set the bar quite high in terms of storytelling.

My inner goddes has her sequins on and is warming up to dance the rumba.

People are talking about sex. They're talking about sex with their husbands. They're talking about sex with their girlfriends. They're talking about sex with their partners. And because of all of this communication, women are having much more intimate relationships, which is fantastic.

The candle flame is too hot. It flickers and dances in the over-warm breeze, a breeze that brings no respite from the heat. Soft gossamer wings flutter to and fro in the dark, sprinkling dusty scaled in the circle of light. I'm struggling to resist, but I'm drawn. And then it's to bright, and I am flying too close to the sun, dazzled by the light, fried and melting from the heat, weary in my endeavers to stay airborn. I am so warm. The heat... It's stiffling, overpowering. It wakes me.

I think you can only be truly mad at someone you really love.