I can write absolutely anywhere. All I need is a laptop.

The dead know everything but they don't give a damn.

A little tantrum in real life seems so much bigger online.

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.

I dream a lot, in colour and in sound and scent. Quite a few of my stories have come from dreams.

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 like literature that you respond to in some way. You laugh, you cry, you turn the light on - that's great, it's eliciting a response by proxy.