I Was Born Too Late For Steam

When I Was Writing For Children, I Was Writing Genre Fiction. It Was Like Making A Good Chair. However Beautiful It Looked, It Needed Four Legs Of The Same Length, It Had To Be The Right Height And It Had To Be Comfortable.

What Actually Happens When You Die Is That Your Brain Stops Working And Your Body Rots, Like Rabbit Did When He Died And We Buried Him In The Earth At The Bottom Of The Garden. And All His Molecules Were Broken Down Into Other Molecules And They Went Into The Earth And Were Eaten By Worms And Went Into The Plants And If We Go And Dig In The Same Place In 10 Years There Will Be Nothing Exept His Skeleton Left. And In 1,000 Years Even His Skeleton Will Be Gone. But That Is All Right Because He Is A Part Of The Flowers And The Apple Tree And The Hawthorn Bush Now.

I Find People Confusing.

I Read Very, Very Little Fiction As A Kid. All The Books I Can Remember Are Junior Science Books.

I Like Dogs. You Always Know What A Dog Is Thinking. It Has Four Moods. Happy, Sad, Cross And Concentrating. Also, Dogs Are Faithful And They Do Not Tell Lies Because They Cannot Talk.