People see my head on a book and attach a tall body to it. The image of somebody that you have accorded status to in your mind is a large one; the Greeks always made the gods quite tall. I’m short. Shorter than you think.

I threw amazingly scary parties for my little sister. She was born on 30 October and her birthdays were a hot item. I’d paint my face green, turn out the lights, make everyone get under the tablecloth and tell ghost stories with a flashlight under my chin. They were scared out of their trees.

Some journalists find me intimidating. I’m actually very helpful. In the early days of being a Canadian woman writer, [the press] would have at me, so I had to do a lot of self defence.

Human beings have hope built in. If they weren’t hopeful they would have died out a long time ago. My contribution to the Future Library [an art project that will share its authored pieces in a century’s time] shows I’m betting on the fact that there will still be people in 100 years.

I inherited my parents’ curiosity. My dad was a scientist, my mother was a strong, outdoors person and they were always active. From April to November we lived in the woods and ran a vegetable garden, and fished.

Dystopian fiction reflects the times we’re in. In the 19th century there was a huge number of utopias written about future perfect lives, but the Second World War changed that. The current outpouring [of dystopias] – books like The Hunger Games – focuses on what writers, and indeed the audience, see happening to the planet.

Being a famous writer is different to being a famous rock star. With a writer, people bond to the books. Nobody wants my shoelaces.

It’s interesting that The Handmaid’s Tale [Atwood’s sixth book] is both taught in schools and banned in schools. Parts of the US are getting closer to Gilead [the book’s totalitarian state] – you only have to look at abortion rights.

Feminism is having a new wave. The first was about the vote; the second was about identity and came from the pressure cooker of women being in the home; this third wave is about violence. It’s about women being murdered and raped. It’s more self defence than self assertion.

One of the few privileges of being older is people put my bags on the overhead racks for me. It’s too hair-raising for them to watch me climb up on to the seat.

You go through various stages as a writer in relation to public acceptance and reviewing. At my stage I think people are just quite surprised that I’m still alive, so they’re nice to me.

Going online is addictive for the same reason that going to the post box is addictive. You keep thinking there’s going to be an Easter egg in there just for you.

The Heart Goes Last by Margaret Atwood (£18.99, Bloomsbury) is published on 24 September. To order a copy for £14.99, go to bookshop.theguardian.com. Follow Margaret Atwood on Twitter @MargaretAtwood