I do, but I never force it out of myself. I’m kind of trying to explore writing as a practice, so you know, I journal every day, I try and do kind of something for the art every day whether that’s reading or watching film or practicing guitar… It kind of ebbs and flows, but I do try and do something creative every day. When it comes to writing poetry or songs, I really have to have an idea or have that desire to get something down. I feel like the best art comes from a sense of necessity and urgency, like I can’t help but talk about this. I can only be in that creative space when I really want to and when internally it feels right.

It comes out of an intuition, or a learned intuition, I guess. You study a long time ’til you can do it. But it’s from looking around you, it’s from understanding what’s happening in the culture, what’s happening in the world.

The bitterness. I am very sad if I think of the status of the world now. This is my deepest inspiration. This could be also an inspiration for the next generation or generations in literature. Inspiration to give something for the next generation, somehow to survive this time because these are very, very dark times and we need much more power in us to survive this time than before.

Yes. Because in the end, experience is what counts. The more experience you have, the better you are. And that’s true of anything you do in airplanes, dogfighting in combat, or anything like that. Your chances of coming out on top depend on your experience level. The more experience you can get, the better chance you have of surviving in a war, or in any situation where you are faced with an emergency.

In 1972, by Farley Mowat, after I’d had a modest success: “Now you’re a target, and people will shoot at you.” Which is not about how to write, but about some of the consequences of having done so.

The white-water canoe run I did solo at Lady Evelyn Park 20 years ago. It was impromptu. It took the skin off my knees. It was an unnecessary risk.

Where to begin? How about working the archery range at the Sportsman’s Show in 1956? “The pointy part of the arrow goes at the front.” Or going door-to-door in 1963, when I was a questionnaire re-writer for a market research company, asking a 36-page questionnaire about bowel movements for a laxative company. “No one is going to answer 36 pages on that!” I bleated. “They’ll kick me out after three pages!” “Ah, but those who don’t,” they said – “those are our target market!”

Of dying, only if painful and protracted, or if I get stuck inside an inert body. I would also not wish to be trapped in a jar.

Can't pick and choose, it's bad luck.

Getting too involved in too many things. It eats your brain.