A tree is alive, and thus it is always more than you can see. Roots to leaves, yes-those you can, in part, see. But it is more-it is the lichens and moss and ferns that grow on its bark, the life too small to see that lives among its roots, a community we know of, but do not think on. It is every fly and bee and beetle that uses it for shelter or food, every bird that nests in its branches. Every one an individual, and yet every one part of the tree, and the tree part of every one.

There are relatively few science fiction or fantasy books with the main character being an old person.

I can become very emotional about math, although I'm not that good at it.

Having a mother who had been an aeronautical engineer convinced me that more things should be open to women.

What it boils down to is that parenting a child with autism is a difficult job; writing about it is far easier.

I had, of course, no model for that sort of woman being married, but I can make that up as I go along.

One of my degrees was a science degree in biology.