Born in London, my adult life has been spent equally between Toronto and Sydney. Offspring on three continents. My life is like a game of musical chairs.
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"Write what you know", they once said. With so much fantasy fiction around, how can we? And what about fairy tales, and science fiction?  Nobody can stop fiction writers from making up a bunch of things they've never experienced. It's this that makes writing such magic—the ability to conjure up anything, anyone, anywhere, whenever we want.
​​​​​​​       Painting was always my other love, as you'll see by the variety of art at my website, and that competes with my need to write; one or the other gets me up each morning. I always find wonder in the written word and illustrative paintings, both mine and others, and I can't imagine a life without them.
​​​​​​​     My present novels (and a lot of my paintings) feature houses as major players.  I still have several unexplored plot ideas that also will involve houses. A fifth novel has started talking to me, this one from a ruin of a cottage in England, I think. Houses are my inspiration. Perhaps, one day, fiction publishers will consider a “house” genre. I know there are others who have this same odd obsession. 
​​​​​​​     Whichever country, whatever house, recognized or ignored, I’ll continue to write and paint. And I'll try to pursue a life as green as a meadow after spring rain.