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I am sporadically assembling an autobiography, which will include, if I ever get it finished, echoes of items that have already been published here and there, and a good deal more. As Dane Gill supposes, some personal thoughts and recollections will touch on my father. As for a proper biography of VN, that task has been brilliantly accomplished by Brian Boyd. Like many people, I have come face to face with the prospect of creative writing. Here I cannot avoid a sense of enormous challenge and responsibility. My father and I had a superb relationship, full of modesty and humor on his part. While he never made it seem a daunting burden or a filial obligation, he was pleased at the thought that I might write something of my own, and even, on occasion, would suggest a plot or theme or offer benevolent criticism. I had other wonderful teachers -- John Ciardi, for example. But while my father was alive I had trouble writing on a mature level. After his death, through some recondite process of inheritance, I succeeded in composing a few short pieces -- essays, memoirs -- that more or less satisfied me. As for creative writing, I completed an odd kind of novel that appealed to some of my indulgent friends and that may have shown some promise, but that will never be published. I have started something else, but stopped work on it after a couple of chapters. I could put the blame on my busy and complex daily life, but that is not a valid excuse (most people are busy). To be quite honest, while I have faced many dangers, this is the one domain that truly intimidates me.