Vitamins Are Medicine For Not Getting Sick

I Always Wince A Little Bit When I Send Me To Each Of My New Books. I Wince At Submitting Myself To My Father's Judgment. But, Of Course, He's Such A Fond Father That He Always Writes Back, Saying It's The Greatest Thing Ever Written.

Once I Spent A Whole Day There, A Blade Of Grass In Each Hand To Anchor Me To The Warm Earth. I Watched The Sun Rise, Pass Over My Head And Set. Ladybirds Mated On My Knuckle; A Shrew Nibbled A Hole In My Stocking While I Tried Not To Laugh. Such A Day Was Worth Any Punishment.

I Read A Lot Of Social History. If I'm In An Art Gallery And A Picture Intrigues Me, I Immediately Write Down The Title And I Google It. I Do A Lot Of Googling And Looking Out For Good Stories. I Can Almost Smell Them Sometimes.

I Was Not Exploiting Any Real Individual's Story In Writing Room, Of Course I Was Aware That My Novel, By Commenting On Such Situations, Would Run The Risk Of Falling Into Those Traps Of Voyeurism, Sensationalism And Sentimentality.

We Used To Call It Her Cinderella Complex, Because Often When She Had Agreed To Go Out In The Evening She Would Be Seized By Panic And Announce That She Had Nothing To Wear.