This is easy. It’s called Mother Dirt. It clears your skin, and it cost $49.00. My skin was a hot mess for most of my adolescence and into my 20’s.

Actually, this is quite random, but I love it. It’s a diffuser for aromatherapy oils. My piano is in my lounge and I have this diffuser on. I put different oils in. For when I’m practicing, I would put geranium in, for instance, which I love. I just find it relaxes me, but at the same time keeps me perked up enough to be able to work.

I’ll give two answers. I bought a new electric teakettle. I used to have all the stovetop kettles. Even though I knew it was vastly better, I underestimated how much better my life would be by having an electric tea kettle so I can have tea actually quickly and more or less on demand with very little fuss.

Yes. Well, one of them I’m holding in my hand right now. And my daughter turned me onto these. She’s now 28. Computer glasses, which I got on Amazon. I don’t know. They were less than $20. But these are yellow-tinted glasses that enlarge things slightly. That has totally changed my comfort in sitting in front of a screen.

But I’m not okay with dying, just for the record.

If my kids are eating Skittles or M&Ms or something which they’re not generally allowed to eat, I’ll have to organize them by color. But I don’t think that’s absurd; I think that’s perfectly reasonable. Why would you want to eat the colors out of order?

I’m a super big fan of list making. I’m like the list queen. And every problem I have ever had has been solved by a list. You write down all the reasons for this, and all the reasons for the other thing, and then there are sub-lists. You can color code them. You can get highlighters. And the answer is there.

There are many times for three months in a row I wrote every day, but there are also many times for three months in a row I didn't write a word. What I found is I make an appointment with myself and I don't look at each day, I look at the calendar ahead.

My husband, Brian Lindstrom, is my biggest supporter. There’s no doing it without him. When I was writing Torch, he believed in me more than I believed in myself. He’s always, always, always been there for me, every time I needed him. He encourages me. He believes in me.

Without question, the only legacy that really matters to me is the one I leave with my children. I want them to grow to be fully actualized people who can give to the world in ways creative and otherwise and who feel my love in their hearts and lives always, no matter what happens—whether I live to be really old or die young, I hope that my legacy lives in them.