As I mentioned, I was a carpenter for a time.

I just wrote what I felt like writing since they seemed to sell.

Then there was Clark Ashton Smith, who wrote for Weird Tales and who had a wild imagination. He wasn’t a very talented writer, but his imagination was wonderful.

But I’ve sure worked at jobs where I have been under inspection.

In fact, almost every job you get somebody watching you.

I haven’t been to a movie since somebody gave me free tickets to Star Wars, which I went to.

I don’t read other science fiction. I don’t read any at all.

It seems to limit you; when you’re working in an office, you’re a creature in a small cell under somebody’s supervision and surveillance.

Well, I think everything I’ve ever read contributes to the background from which I write.

I got done writing Ports of Call and suddenly realized I have far too much material for the book.

I’d never been published when I was young.

A reader is not supposed to be aware that someone’s written the story. He’s supposed to be completely immersed, submerged in the environment.

But, for instance, when I was awfully young, I read all the Oz books. They were an enormous influence on me.

These are just the tip of the iceberg, because I read and read and read. I read everything.

I do read books. I suppose it’s more or less the same thing, but at least I’m alone and I’m an individual. I can stop anytime I want, which I frequently do.

This flattery has been rather slow in coming. I think all of sudden late in life now I’m getting some credit for what I’ve done. Which is gratifying, but it’s kind of a little late.

I worked for half a cent a word. I’m not a fast writer to begin with, so for the first few years I had do other things.

I never made lots of money at it, but I sold enough.

I never worked in an office in my life.

So I’ll write it, and then I’ll find out that I actually wrote something that is utterly useless. You can’t use it in the story and it doesn’t fit. So I just throw it away. I’ve done that countless times.

The story was such that I couldn’t make a graceful ending and then make a graceful new beginning. I could have, but I didn’t want to. So, it isn’t the most graceful way of writing a story. This new story is, I think, is pretty good stuff. I’m pleased with it anyway.

As I mentioned, I was a carpenter for a time.

I haven’t sold to the movies. In other words, I haven’t gotten any enormous checks yet.

I was a carpenter for a time and everybody watches what you do.

There was a writer in the ’20s called Christopher Morley, who I remember a little bit of, who had some influence on me, but I couldn’t tell you what it was.

I thought that automobiles were going to have mufflers and go fast and airplanes were going to fly fast.

Right now I’m so old that if I had a big gush of money, I don’t know what I’d do with it. I don’t travel anymore. I don’t need anything, don’t want anything. I’d give it to my son, I guess, and let him enjoy it.

But I’m so slow on it because I find it terribly hard writing blind on computers. The computer speaks to me, but it’s just so slow, I’m so terribly slow using it.

Sometimes some of these little side excursions are useful and I manage to fit them in the book somewhere.

I was an omnivore at reading, so that everything I ever read contributed.

But Roy Rockwood, it was science fiction for the sake of science fiction.