Dr. Alton Ochsner certainly was, from a surgical standpoint, my mentor, and the one who influenced me more than anyone else. He was also, like my father, a very strict disciplinarian, and a perfectionist. I liked the way he did things, even though he made you toe the mark. He was almost like a father to me. Took me under his wing, and helped me in every possible way, especially in the research laboratory. He was a brilliant researcher himself. I learned a great deal from him, in terms of how you develop yourself, how you conduct yourself, and the importance of experience and the importance of doing things until you do it perfectly. He had a great influence on me. I am really indebted to his memory, for what he did for me.

There were some high school teachers. I remember a math teacher, Mr. Ewen — actually a math teacher in eighth grade, Mrs. Matwell, who got excited about my ideas and wanted to listen to them. My mother actually was kind of a fan of my ideas and would listen to them. Marvin Minsky I actually communicated with in high school and came to visit him, came up to Boston, and to my delight, took me, a high school student, as seriously as he would take a professor. I mean, that is his approach. He treats everybody the same. I think he really doesn’t care if somebody’s a professor or a high school student. He’s very excited with ideas and very honest with his reactions. But that encouragement was important to me.

The person who has inspired me my whole life is my Mom, because she taught me commitment. She sacrificed. We weren’t dirt poor, but we weren’t real rich or anything. I would always have what I needed, and when I looked in her closet, she would have two dresses. She taught me to be outside of yourself, to get outside of yourself, and to be committed to somebody. That’s the same thing that I try to teach. Throughout my life, my mom has been the person that I’ve always looked up to. She never went to high school. I remember, in an old Polish way, she said, “Mike, I went to the eighth grade twice because the teacher liked me.” She had great, self-effacing humor, and loved life. I really admire her.

We'd walk in the canyons, and we'd often walk with Bethe, and Von Neumann, and Bacher. It was a great pleasure.

Writing became a therapy. First of all, it meant I was reconstructing my own existence. It was also an act of defiance. I wasn’t supposed to write. ... I evolved all kinds of mental exercises, even went back to those subjects which I said I hated in school, in particular mathematics. ... You know, anything to keep the mind alive.

That’s a very good question. I think I’m a very lazy writer and by that I mean that I do not battle, I don’t struggle too hard against it. If I have difficulties in the writing, I just go and do other things. I don’t feel a compulsion to write. Of course, when I start writing then it becomes a compulsive activity, because I’ve begun something and I want to continue, want to finish it. … I know there are other writers who sit down religiously every morning, they take their espresso, they put a clean sheet of paper there and they sit looking at that paper until they’ve finished or covered at least a number of those pages. No, I’m not like that. I have to be ready. It has to gestate it for quite a while and then it’s ready to burst forth.

Yes, I do. I do, but I were part company with certain schools of writers that I do not believe that it is necessarily the duty of the writer. I don’t believe that. If a writer is true to his vocation, to his or her vocation, the very process of creativity enlarges these human horizons. It provides insights, even when you’re not writing, when your writing’s not dealing with a concrete political situation.

I just say, “Follow your instincts.” Don’t feel you have to follow the paths of others, because you may not be temperamentally fitted for it. And so you’ll just harm yourself and your cause and others. But just follow your instinct, and don’t ever pretend to be what you’re not.