At age 98, noted food writer Betty Fussell is serving up a frank, funny new memoir. In How To Cook a Coyote (Counterpoint, December 2), one of Kirkus’ Best Nonfiction Books of 2025, Fussell digs into late life, finding plenty to savor. She answered our questions via email.

What was the original idea that started you working on How To Cook a Coyote?

I guess I was born to write down whatever was happening in my daily life and raised by grandparents who taught me to write as soon as I was old enough to tie my own shoelaces. Now that I’m at the end of my life, the need to write what’s happening to me as I approach blindness and death is increasingly urgent, but it took me 12 years to complete the book. Time was definitely running out. 

Where and when did you write it?

I had been living on the East Coast, principally New York, for decades, but at age 88, I realized I was running out of energy to manage the hazards of a big city. Since I was born in Southern California, I knew I would return one day. I registered with Casa Dorinda in Montecito, an old folks’ home I’d checked out on one of my visits. My apartment at the Casa was what I dreamed of in my New York attic. I returned to living inside-outside with small distinction in between.

I realized how important living quarters were to my body—like a turtle in a shell. But just as I was getting used to the wild difference between city attic and stepping out to feed the squirrels, birds, and chipmunks, the next major change hit. That was Covid-19. Even drawing into our shells didn’t save all of us.

What inspired you during the writing of the book?

The imminence of death. I was surprised after the toughness of New York to find that death was a forbidden subject at the Casa, or rather, a forbidden word. Euphemisms were essential, like passed on, departed, expired. This was a mark of Pasadena politeness. As a writer, I wanted to leave a mark before I died and for someone as old as I, who had a world full of memories, I wanted to pack them all in, but first I had to get them all down in order to see what to use and what to throw out. My main emotion, I think, was fear that I would leave something out. 

Throughout, you express a love of music and movement. What’s your favorite song to dance to?

“Besame Mucho,” because I heard the music first in junior high school in the auditorium where we all gathered on rainy days. I had seen the tango in movies and realized I could imitate that hip movement from what I had seen and now heard on the record that was playing.

Now that our questionnaire is through, what are your plans for the rest of the day?

I am going to boxing class, to which I’m devoted because it is like dancing and our room is equipped with real boxing gloves and punching bags. After lunch, I’ll watch the bocce tournament in the wonderful court and patio to the west of the dining room. I’ll meet a friend for dinner at the bar and grill and, afterwards, go home, get ready for bed, and watch a TCM movie like Week-End at the Waldorf.  

Editor at large Megan Labrise hosts the Fully Booked podcast.