I am not at all a chocoholic. I would rather eat anchovy toast.

I'm not sure I believe in the whole 'ghost-afterlife' thing, but I think places are marked by people who have been there.

I don't listen to music when I'm writing, but I often do when I'm reworking, editing or when I need to relax.

I'm politically inclined towards the left, but I don't like to be in anyone's gang; I'm a bit of a loose cannon.

I speak as I must and cannot be silent.

We came in the wind of the carnival. A wind of change, or promises. The merry wind, the magical wind, making March hares of everyone, tumbling blossoms and coat-tails and hats; rushing towards summer in a frenzy of exuberance.

Like a domestic cat, purring on the sofa by day, but by night, a strutting queen, a natural killer, disdainful of her other life.