What is your favourite word?

So many! Today they include: slapdash, puppylove, downright, fluctuate, wishful, and hush. Tomorrow, I’m guessing, cloudburst, nifty, harmonious, and bespattered.

Which human quality do you most admire?

Generosity of spirit.

Where would you like to have been born?

Anywhere in Asia or North Eastern Arnhem Land.

What is your favourite book?

The OED.

And your favourite literary hero and heroine?

They vary from time to time. At the moment they are Doctor Zhivago and Baby Suggs Holy.

What, if anything, impedes your writing?

University work, self-doubt.

How old were you when your first book appeared?

Thirty-eight.

Of which of your books are you fondest?

Once they’re published I relinquish affection, but it’s necessary to cultivate a kind of fondness, a dear and stringent regard, for whatever one is working on.

In a phrase, how would you characterise your work?

Preoccupied by art, time, and the symbolic dimensions of making sense.

Who is your favourite author?

I’ve just returned to Virginia Woolf. But any number of poets could figure here.

How do you regard publishers?

I’ve been lucky; the wonderful Fremantle Arts Centre Press gave me a start, and since then I’ve been well supported, both here and abroad.

What do you think of the state of criticism?

Mixed. The culture of complaint against critics and reviewers is not helping: all need moral and material support, and some confirmation that critical practice is both honourable and culturally important.

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

Yes. And a doctor.

What do you think of writers’ festivals?

They are habitually disparaged, but they support the writing community in many ways. I particularly like the support given to younger writers, and initiatives like regional and emerging writers’ festivals.

Do you feel artists are valued in our society?

Not as much as sportspeople or anyone – anyone – who appears on television.

What are you working on now?

Right now I’m reading, not writing.