I started writing stories in my spare time.

I don't think there's any great mystery to writing female characters, so long as you talk to them. If you lived in a monastery and never met any women, maybe it would be difficult.

I want to tell a story that makes the reader always want to see what will happen next.

Without books I would not have become a vivacious reader, and if you are not a reader you are not a writer.

One of the hardest things for me, now that I'm famous, is finding people who can read my stuff and give me an honest critique.

Ethel said: "Lloyd, there's someone here you may remember-" Daisy could not restrain herself. She ran to Lloyd and threw herself into his arms. She hugged him. She looked into his green eyes, then kissed his brown cheeks and his broken nose and then his mouth. "I love you, Lloyd," she sad madly. "I love you, I love you, I love you." "I love you, too, Daisy," he said. Behind her, Daisy heard Ethel's wry voice. "You do remember, I see.

Fear could paralyse. Action was the antidote.