I don't think anyone sits down and thinks, 'I know, I'll be a chick-lit writer.' You write the book that you want to write and then other people say, 'Oh, that's chick-lit.' You say, 'Okay.' But it's not like you look around and go to a careers fair and there will be someone at the chick-lit author stand.

If I behave as though this is a completely normal situation, then maybe it will be.

Still, that's the point of love; you love someone despite their flaws.

Honestly, it’s so easy to get what you want from people if they think you’re a psycho.

Emma, I'm sorry, I can't help you. This is a disaster. You're completely vulnerable. It's like going into battle in a nightie.

Visiting any shop for the first time is exciting. There's always that buzz as you push open the door; that hope; that belief - that this is going to be the shop of all shops, which will bring you everything you ever wanted, at magically low prices.

I mean, when I think about it, what's more important? Clothes - or the miracle of new life?