Where are you happiest?

With my family.

What is your favourite music?

I like some Dvořák and most of Bach; Fauré and Debussy; early rock and roll; cool jazz from the 1960s.

Which human quality do you most admire?

Generosity.

What is your favourite book?

As a child, comic books, The Saint, westerns, science fiction. I loved Kerouac’s On The Road, but I was young and febrile then. Shakespeare’s plays. Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, though it’s too big and strange to live with. I became absorbed in Proust for a while, but I got bogged down in the middle of À la recherche du temps perdu and never found the traction to go on.

Who is your favourite author?

Oh, lots: Sappho, Rimbaud, Ashbery, Somerset Maugham, Graham Greene, Hans Magnus Enzensberger …

And your favourite literary hero and heroine?

Biggles and Alice in Wonderland. They’d make a wonderful couple: Biggles is  brave and optimistic; Alice has the brains.

How old were you when your first book appeared?

Twenty-seven. I was very slow to improve as a writer, and – looking back – my best work always seemed to be a few years ahead of me. I might never have published a book at all if I had kept waiting for the perfect collection.

What, if anything, impedes your writing?

I’ll use any excuse: doing the dishes, shopping, a load of washing, exploring a stationery store.

How do you regard publishers?

I’ve been one, so I know how to end up with a million dollars: invest ten million dollars in publishing poetry. But many publishers today are the frightened slaves of the bookkeepers and marketing staff who really run the companies on behalf of the investors, so it’s hard to respect them.

What do you think of the state of criticism?

As always: a mix of duplicity, fraud, spite, insight, and scrupulous analysis.

If you had your time over again, would you choose to be a writer?

Of course. Of course not.

What do you think of writers’ festivals?

They certainly help lots of readers to reach the writers they like. And festivals are often good publicity for starving writers and publishers. But most writers are best at sitting alone in a darkened room, thinking and occasionally typing, not performing like a stand-up comic. Charming an audience is one thing; writing well is quite another.

Do you feel artists are valued in our society?

More in Australia than almost anywhere else, yes. We put two poets on our ten dollar note. And the Literature Board quietly goes on supporting writers without asking anything in return.

What are you working on now?

Oddly for me, rhymed sonnets in various forms.

John Tranter has published more than twenty books of poetry, and a book of experimental fiction titled Different Hands (1998). He has also compiled four anthologies, including co-editing the Penguin Book of Modern Australian Poetry (1991).