I didn’t learn how to read until I was at the end of fifth grade and 11 years old and held back.
I know that it isn’t just violence against women, it’s how do we support ourselves and our families, how do we deal with health care for ourselves and our families? It’s a bigger picture.
I see the great continuities in New Zealand history as being decency and common sense and up until now when we’ve confronted these things we’ve been able to talk them through, and I’m sure we will with this issue as well.
I would want the British reader to feel that religion in America isn’t an absurd thing – a sign of a pin head athwart a gigantic body.
In 1965, I went to what was called the worst Bihar famine in India, and I saw starvation, death, people dying of hunger, for the first time. It changed my life. I came back home, told my mother, ‘I’d like to live and work in a village.’ Mother went into a coma.
With my fiction, I focused on chapters and overall conceptions, while in poetry, I crawled along in the trenches of each sentence, examining every word for a sign of a deeper significance.
We coin concepts and we use them to analyse and explain nature and society. But we seem to forget, midway, that these concepts are our own constructs and start equating them with reality.
Most of us see Justice O’Connor as something of an icon, although we do not agree with all of her decisions.
I like a quiet life.
Art’s power of persuasion resides in the small personal details of one’s own story, and if it weren’t for my struggle with dyslexia, I doubt I’d ever have become a writer or known how to teach others to write.