I Grew Up In Rhodesia On My

At The Age Of 12 I Won The School Prize For Best English Essay. The Prize Was A Copy Of Somerset Maugham's 'introduction To Modern English And American Literature.' To This Day I Keep It On The Shelf Between My Collection Of Forester's Works And The Little Urn That Contains My Mother's Ashes.

Quite Frankly, I Think Political Correctness Is The Worst Form Of Censorship. You're Not Allowed To Speak Your Mind Unless You're Black, Or Unless You're A Terrorist, Or Unless You're An Arab Or A Minority People. Then You Can Say What You Like. But If You Are Like A Lot Of Us You Are Not Supposed To Say Certain Things.

Let It Simply Be Said That We Know More About The Details Of The Hours Immediately Before And The Actual Death Of Jesus, In And Near Jerusalem, Than We Know About The Death Of Any Other One Man In All The Ancient World.

I Want To Be Seen As A Good Storyteller. I'm A Manipulator As Well.

Herbert, My Father, Was Born In Britain But Went Out To Africa In His Teens To Join His Father And Built Up An 18,000-acre Ranch In What Was Then Northern Rhodesia, Providing Work For The Locals. He Was My Hero When I Was A Boy.