There was never a single murder in my neighbourhood; there was barely a robbery. It was so suburban, it was almost disappointing.

In 1976, Rastafarians were one of the most violated, persecuted groups in Jamaica. They could be beaten within an inch of their lives, or detained for two years, just for being found in a 'proper' neighbourhood.

I always tell my students to complicate your characters: never make it easy for the reader. Nobody is ever one thing. That's what makes characters compelling.

I really barely ever see anyone use a wooden stick. Almost all of them use composites.

There a lot of people I know struggling with that, just barely making it. Then having almost $3 a gallon for gas, it's just outrageous.

Every single time it was grand. I loved the moment when you announce the stickup and everything suddenly goes brighter and sharper and the world seems to spin faster. You show them the gun and say hand it over and there's no telling what's going to happen in the next tick of the clock.