Sometimes I worked with just a background of a rock or a tree or black velvet, and just had to imagine the whole thing.

That was one time when my technique absolutely deserted me, I must admit. There was a wax face that he had created himself to cover his own ugliness. I was in his clutches and I had to hit him in the face.

As far as advice, that will be in my next book, my next collection. I certainly never like to instruct anyone, but just say as I feel. That's the same as advice, isn't it?

It was good for us, I suppose. Those kinds of times produce qualities in us that make us better for having had them. My parents were not getting along. My mother was quite intolerant of friendships that were being developed.

Recently, a six-year-old boy said to me, "I've been waiting to meet you for half my life."

Only in your imagination can you revise.

Juan Tripp was a friend. Good name for an airline man, huh? Juan Tripp after another?