I don't find any real rivalries with crime and thriller writers anyway. That might sound a little Pollyanna, but for the most part the writers I compete with, if you want to use that word, it's a pretty friendly rivalry. I think we all realise that the boat rises and sinks together.

You know, people call mystery novels or thrillers 'puzzles.' I never understood that, because when I buy a puzzle, I already know what it is. It's on the box. And even if I don't, if it's a 5,000-piece puzzle of the 'Mona Lisa', it's not like I put the last piece in and go, 'I had no idea it's the 'Mona Lisa'!'

I'm thinking of taking up golf, but the idea of spending time with golfers frightens me.

Hope is cruel. Hope reminds me of what almost was. Hope makes the physical ache return.

There are few times that I feel more at peace, more in tune, more Zen, if you will, than when I force myself to unplug.

That's what a good crime novelist - any good novelist - should do with you: play with your perceptions while showing you everything in plain sight.

In real life, coincidences happen all the time. In novels, they are leapt upon with fury.