I would like to do a novel where some curse turns that into how the world really is - a blessing or a curse, I don't know which.

Once you find you can't walk as far and as fast as you were able, life becomes more complicated.

I have never been a critic of science fiction as a whole.

Why in God's name should a God be praised if he is only performing his Godly function?

Originality is a concept possible only to a limited viewpoint.

It takes me a long time to get with a landscape. It took me 20 years before I wrote anything about Ibiza, and I haven't written about Oregon yet, although I've been there 20 years - possibly I'm almost due.

Ethical and questions of philosophy interest me a great deal.