I've always loved books. I'm passionate about them. I think books are sexy. They are smooth and solid and contain delightful surprises. They smell good. They fit into a handbag and can be carried around and opened at will. They don't change. They are what they are and nothing else. One day I want to own a lot of books and have them nbear to me in my house, so that I can stroll to my bookshelves and choose what I fancy. I want a harem. I shall keep my favourites by my bed.

I am surrounded by counselors. My sister is a counselor. My daughter is training to be a counselor. A lot of my friends are counselors.

Will you lie to me and promise to read them? Books need to be read. The pages need to be turned.

I'm spectacularly disorganised. I wrote my latest book in seven different notebooks scattered throughout my house.

Sometimes I rant, in a comical way, about how the gods give with one hand and take with the other.

I don't know why women are so mad about flowers. Personally, they leave me cold. I prefer trees.

I married two weeks after my 18th birthday, far too young, and by the time I was 23 I was a single mother of three small children, Sean, Daniel and Victoria, living in a prefab house.