Do you knock on wood?

No, but I pause at 11:11 and focus on a specific thought or 60-second meditation.

What is your most treasured comfort meal?

A freshly-ground almond butter sandwich.

What is a species you feel is frequently misunderstood? 

All species of birds. Every species I’ve studied has its own language, dialects, customs, and tribes. They have deep long-lasting relationships and unique personalities. They engage in complex thinking. They are communities, as well as individuals. They are a civilization.

In what environment do you feel most at home?

I feel most at home among my books, with my favorite walks and people nearby, but I also feel most relaxed and free and calm on a dense city street, weaving anonymously through a crowd.

My favorite tree in the world is _____.

I love any tree. But the one I love the most is a hundred-year-old post oak that stood outside my house until last summer when it toppled over in a windstorm, and took up the whole street with its gorgeous canopy. Sadness.

Nature would be better without _____.

I would say humans, but that seems a little unfriendly. How about industrial pollution?

What is something you’re looking forward to?

The end of time—not that I’ll be here for it, but I think it will be interesting. What happens after time? I thought a lot about that while writing my most recent book, Earth 7.

What was your last memorable animal encounter?

My last memorable one was watching an adorable baby elephant roll around in the mud while his mother helped with her trunk! Oh wait, that was on my phone. I think my last memorable animal encounter was when I opened the screen door and a tiny lizard leapt out the door into the plants outside. She was probably thirsty, trapped on the porch with no hope. I’m very glad I opened the door at just that moment.

Do you have any unusual hobbies, hidden talents, or superpowers you’d like to share?

I’ve always been immensely talented at taking up hobbies with vigor and abandoning them six months later. We have a shed out back that is a storage space for abandoned hobbies that I may yet take up again: art supplies, drumkit, a collapsible kayak, exercise equipment, sheet music, vegan cookbooks, dance shoes. . . .

If you could, regardless of the local climate, reach out of your kitchen window and pluck a fruit from a tree, bush, or plant, what would it be?

A blood orange.

If you could make pancakes with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?

My grandmother. I have recordings of us cooking together on cassette tapes, the only reason I still own a cassette tape player. Sometimes I listen to one when I’m blue.

Would you jump at an opportunity to go into space? Why or why not?

Certainly not. It’s supposed to be very cold out there. And silent. And you can’t go outside without a lot of equipment. Basically your skin would never touch outside air. Sounds claustrophobic. And lonely. And you can barely look out the window, they keep you so busy with chores, I’ve heard. Don’t even get me started on the food. Or sex. Who cares if you get to float around inside a capsule? You’d probably bump your head.

What are some of your favorite words?

Are you referring to sound or meaning? I think my favorite words are all of them.

Do you have a favorite folklore or fairytale?

I always liked the one about the women who danced all night until they died.

Who are some of your heroes or heroines, real or fictional?

I want to say the antihero Omon Krivomazov of Omon Ra by Victor Pelevin. I’ll also say some brilliant female artists who walk entirely their own fearless spiritual paths: Yoko Ono, Tanya Tagaq, Maria Bamford, Virginia Woolf, Toni Morrison, Patti Smith, as a few examples. I’ll also say the justice warriors: Ingrid Newkirk, Harriet Tubman, Rachel Carson.

Who is a character from literature or film with whom you intensely identify? 

I recently read A Mother in History by Jean Stafford. It is a 1966 journalistic account of Stafford’s interviews with Marguerite Oswald, mother of Lee Harvey Oswald. I identify with Stafford’s zeal and passion, her attempt to understand and give space for this grieving being while the entire world looks on askance.

What is something new you’ve done recently?

We planted three trees in our yard last fall. I’ve never done that before and when their leaves came in this spring, I couldn’t believe how happy it made me.

What’s the wildest thing you’ve witnessed or experienced in nature?

Icebergs, brash ice, and pack ice in the Arctic above Svalbard.

Are you optimistic about the future?

Not so much about the future of humanity, but, yes, about what comes next, after us. I think it will be interesting and I’m excited for it. The wild grasses, the tardigrade takeover. Whatever comes.

What is a smell that makes you stop in your tracks?

Pine needles.

Do you have a writing/art-making routine?

When I’m deep in a book, I write every morning and keep going until I run out of steam, which can be a couple of hours or go all day, if time allows.

Which of your book subjects or characters haunts you the most?

The question: What counts as consciousness? Is all life conscious in some way? And: What counts as life? Also, I’m haunted by the technological band-aids scientists are working on to keep civilization going in the face of climate change.

When you enter a bookstore, where do you head first?

I like the “bookseller choices” shelf.

Where did you grow up?

Chicago.

Are you the same person you were as a child?

I now prefer almond butter over peanut butter, but I’m the same in many ways. I have a few fierce comrades and I like time alone. I like reading hour. That’s how I was in grade school too.

What song or album reminds you of high school?

Purple Rain.

What did an average Friday night look like for you as a teenager? 

Hanging out on the beach with other teenagers. But it was Chicago, so it was a lake, and often it was freezing and so we’d sit in our cars, look out at the water, and kiss each other.

If authors had walk-up songs like professional baseball players do, what would yours be?

Talking Heads, “Once in a Lifetime.”

Okay, but what if you’re in a situation where you simply must sing karaoke. What’s your song? 

Talking Heads, “Once in a Lifetime.”

If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

I used to think I’d like to move one hour east per year, until I realized how many years I’d spend alongside highways, or alone in the ocean. Now I’d like to work through a year-by-year list. I’d start with a year in Svalbard.

What would you like to be most remembered for? 

I don’t think I get to choose that. For my books would be nice.

What flower would you want pinned to your breast after you die?

A little bouquet of parsley, basil, cilantro.

If you could come back as any organism, who or what would you be?

If I could start again as myself, maybe I’d do that. I think I’d do a slightly better job next time. If I couldn’t be myself, maybe an Arctic tern. That looks pretty glorious and there are very few humans around.

Bring home Earth 7 today.