I dream to keep on getting ideas and working.

When Jeff Zaslow's column appeared in the Wall Street Journal (WSJ), about a dozen publishers emailed me, asked if I would be willing to write a book based on it. (I found this laughable, since at the time the palliative chemo was not yet working, and I thought I was down to about 6 weeks of good health). When the palliative chemo started working and we had some breathing room, I mentioned this to Jai, and she told me she wanted to do it. She was, in fact, quite emphatic. We had always talked about my "writing the manual" for her and the kids in my remaining time, and Jai felt that if it were a "real" project, I might take it much more seriously.

The songs aren't all written. ... You don't know where they're going to go. That's the fun of the job. There's the usual malarkey, the usual gags, the usual stuff. And also a few songs written by way of kind of being farewells to people, goodbyes to people, gratitude to people. Expressions of, you know, this was a nice deal, life. But I don't think it's exactly weighted with sentimentality.

Well, probably this big sack of poetry.

I’ve never been this close with anyone, or spent this much time with any other person in my life. We talk talk talk so openly about everything, and do everything together. He’s definitely the love of my life.

I love days where I just work uninterrupted from 6am to 10pm, stopping just for a little exercise. These are my favorite days, and always have been.

Keep you uncorked, keep you unstuck, keep it flowing, keep the ideas going, keep the feedback, keep you in communication with your potential future customers for the book. I think it's a great idea.

It would be nice if my books were valued greatly, even after my death.

How do you know when it’s done? I think the real key is just asking yourself, would I be proud of this? Am I ready to release it? And I love the double meaning of that word. Release. I release an album, I release a book. You let go of it. It belongs to the world. Now it’s out of your hands.

When I decided to sell my company, I already had enough. I live simply. I don’t own a house, a car, or even a TV. The less I own, the happier I am. The lack of stuff gives me the priceless freedom to live anywhere anytime. So I didn’t need or even want the money from the sale of the company. I just wanted to make sure I had enough for a simple comfortable life. The rest should go to music education, since that’s what made such a difference in my life.