Interview When and why did you decide to write this book? I knew I wanted to do a collection of my mother's letters when I realized that I'd unconsciously been saving them from the age of 18! I made this discovery during the mid-1980s (in my mid-40s) when I was spending some of each year on our farm in Connecticut. One day while rooting through boxes and files I saw that I had been keeping these letters, not discarding them, as I did with most of my other correspondence. The reason for doing this book is that I understood, as I got older, that Ann Landers was not only America's bulletin board, but she ranked as an important cultural force. So not only did her historical importance color my thinking, her devotion to being a mother and to me was the message in roughly 600 letters. (They are all not in the book!) I also found the letters to be a genuine window into her personality, offering a glimpse of the private person that millions of people already thought they knew. What was it like growing up as the daughter of "an American icon" --- who dispensed advice to millions every day? How did your friends react? Did anyone ever slip you "questions for the column?" I was "saved" from falling into the category of a celebrity's child by two things: I was 15 when Mother became Ann Landers, and newspaper stardom is quite different than that which comes with film stars. Anyone who remembers their teen years will understand that at the age of 15, your mother's prominence is not nearly as important as your friends, your clothes, your hair! In the world of my peers, my mother's position as the advice queen was somewhere between cool and "who cares?" Luckily for me, my mother never confused her work with her life; I was in no way made to feel that my behavior had anything to do with her work or her professional reputation. As for people slipping me questions to give to my mother for the column, it has happened really only a few times over the years. The most recent occasion I remember was when Justice Steven Breyer, at a New Year's Day brunch, gave me a "problem" he had already written out! At the time, however, he was "just" a judge on the first circuit Appellate bench in Boston, not having yet been elevated to the Supreme Court. While I read your mom's columns over the years, reading this book I saw her in a whole new light --- this book portrays her as someone with strong political viewpoints and a strong business sense. Is this something that you think will surprise readers? Unless people have followed her career, they likely will not be aware of her serious and informed interest in medicine, her years of service on many boards, and, as they say in Chicago, her "clout." That she had real power to get things done and have access to anyone I would guess just never occurred to most people. I also think her involvement with me was known only to people who actually knew us. I think this may surprise a lot of people. Your relationship with your Aunt Popo (also known as Dear Abby) and your cousin Jeannie has been strained. Have they said anything about this book? My aunt, of course, knows nothing of this book, as she has suffered from Alzheimer's disease for some years now. My cousin, to my knowledge, has said nothing. Did your mom write these same kinds of notes to your children? Are you a big snail mail writer? My mother did, indeed, send my children notes and letters, usually on the occasion of an event ... a birthday, an honor, a difficult time. Sometimes, however, she would just write to them if there was something she was thinking about that she felt would be useful or might teach them something. I would say I write "real" letters probably more than most people. I admit, however, that I am coming to regard e-mail as an acceptable substitute for snail mail. The exceptions, of course, should be condolence notes, bread and butter notes, and acknowledging gifts - though I am increasingly making exceptions to those rules! You write your own advice column --- Dear Prudence on Slate.com, which has a very strong voice, tone and attitude. What did you learn from your mom about doing a column that influences your work today? I had it drummed into my head that fewer words were better than more, <> adjectives like "very" were usually unnecessary, and to be plain-spoken was better than going for "two dollar words." The similarity between Mother's writing and mine is that people have long said we both write as we speak. One of my treasured compliments from her is that, from the time I went into the newspaper business, she said I was "the real writer" in the family. She was always supportive of my work and genuinely proud of me. On a deeper level than writing style was something my mother said many times over the years: "There's a great deal of me in you." We were so close and spent so much time talking that it would be a surprise if I did not reflect some of her personality, mannerisms, and speech patterns. Many readers have favorite Ann Landers columns that they remember. For me, it was the one about meat loaf, how to hang a roll of toilet paper, the "divorce column from 1975," and her final column, which actually was written by you. Do any stand out to you as the MOST memorable? And what was it like to write your mother's final column? I would have to say the most memorable column for me was the one announcing that she and my father were parting. I had a connection to that column beyond being their child. My mother had asked me to her apartment one Saturday afternoon, saying she wanted to run something by me. She wanted to read me a draft, she said; if I approved, she would use it. It was that column. Before she'd even finished reading, I was in tears. And I told her I thought it was perfect. The great surprise, in all the years since then, is that so many people mention that column to me ... and can even quote from it. As for writing her final column, it had many emotional reverberations for me. I was honored that she wanted me to do it and that she trusted my ability to do it. I also looked at that sad task as the closing of our circle. We had changed places. I, the child she bore and raised and loved and saw to middle-age was now caring for her. She was soon to die and she trusted me to say good-bye to the readers who had meant so much to her for more than half her life.