Family life was wonderful. The streets were bleak. The playgrounds were bleak. But home was always warm. My mother and father had a great relationship. I always felt ‘safe’ there.

Family life was wonderful. The streets were bleak. The playgrounds were bleak. But home was always warm. My mother and father had a great relationship. I always felt ‘safe’ there.

My dream was to be known as a writer and to be able to produce at least one book that would be read by people. That dream came true with the publication of my first novel – and all the rest has been a sweet bonus.

I simply write with an intelligent reader in mind. I don’t think about how old they are.

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t trying to get something down on paper.

There are no taboos. Every topic is open, however shocking. It is the way that the topics are handled that’s important, and that applies whether it is a 15-year-old who is reading your book or someone who is 55.

I take real people and put them in extraordinary situations.

The beautiful part of writing is that you don’t have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon. You can always do it better, find the exact word, the apt phrase, the leaping simile.

You seldom get a censorship attempt from a 14-year-old boy. It’s the adults who get upset.

I have always had a sense that we are all pretty much alone in life, particularly in adolescence.

I had my bully, and it was excruciating. Not only the bully, but the intimidation I felt.

I’ve had aunts and uncles who not only haven’t read my books but could hardly believe that I was a writer.

All the stories I’ll ever need are right here on Main Street.