I happen to write by hand. I don't even type.

I've got more than one string to my bow, and I thought I'd give this one a twang.

The Cold War was over long before it was officially declared dead.

I was the British spy who had come out of the woodwork and told it how it really was, and anything I said to the contrary only enforced the myth. And since I was writing for a public hooked on Bond and desperate for the antidote, the myth stuck.

To possess another language, Charlemagne tells us, is to possess another soul. German is such a language. Once you have it in your head, you can go there anytime, you can close the door, you have a refuge.

For better or worse, I've been involved in the description of political conflict.

I've always had difficulties with female characters.