I didn't have time to sit down and look at the work of a year and choose what to type.

She'd crack A joke sharp as a tin lid Hot from the teeth of the can-opener, And cackle her crack-corn laugh.

My poems - I don't even like the sound of that, in a way. Not that anyone else wrote them. But we know that only people who are really close to us care about our personal experience.

I'm probably so out of it at my age that I don't know what people think.

At one point I took on a new job, and I just didn't have time to do anything but work.

It might be a bad thing, not to know what's going on in the world. I can't say I really approve of it.

The decision for me was whether to have 'The Father' be a book that told a story - from the point of view of this speaker, the daughter - without, as in the earlier books, then having a section on something else and a section on something else.