It's true that I had a bucolic, truly peaceful childhood, growing up in a house next to our family's orchard. We had a lot of books and art, but no electricity until I was eight years old. Since then, I have seen a lot of inner-city life, though.

After clearing the land, planting the orchard, building the house and barn, and surviving the Great Depression, our father died suddenly one winter night when we were small, leaving us to learn about loss before we even knew its name.

Shakespeare had found language for the agony of living with one's own mistakes. There were words for finding yourself isolated with your failures. Phrases for discovering that you were wrong, all, all wrong, wrong, wrong.

My mother had no idea that her daughter would turn out to be a writer, but she would not let me go through a day of my childhood without music.

When I travel, I love to have roll-up flats, the ones that you roll up and put in a bag, just in case your feet start hurting.

To bring up a child in the way he should go, travel that way yourself once in a while.

I did a B.A. with a major in fine arts and a minor in psychology. I wanted to become a teacher or do art therapy for the elderly. But then I realised I wanted to travel instead.

I take a cooking class everywhere I travel. I find it's the best way to get to know a culture.