Ian McMillan: pieces of me

Ian McMillan Photograph: Graham Turner/Guardian

Dinosaurs rule our house. This belongs to my grandson, aged four. Becoming a grand­father changed me. I feel more relaxed. He’s an ­absolute delight, a new lease of life. He laughs at all my gags Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

I spend my life on trains. I had two driving lessons with a man who was more nervous than me, which put me off. Getting the first train of the day gives you a sense of mission Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

I wake up tragically early, at about 4.30am. My best time of day is early morning. I write. And I listen to Radio 3 as it soothes me Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

My father was a rare thing — a teetotal Scottish sailor. He was a lovely, gentle fellow. He made every day into a story. That’s why I became a storyteller. He was proud of what I did even though it was outside his world. If I was on telly he would cry with sheer joy. He died on Christmas Day, 2001 Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

I loved Dylan Thomas when I was a lad. It’s good to see a fat bloke doing well. He was also non-metropolitan Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

When I go abroad I always buy a book in the local language. This is from Paris, which I like to go to, to get my soul going again Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

This is from Crowne Plaza, Lille. I think I’ve got a thousand pens I’ve nicked from hotels. If I don’t have a pen to hand, I get grumpy Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

This badger is the only thing I’ve ever won. It’s the Wildlife Poet of the Year award. I thought everyone would be writing about sexy wildlife like tigers, so I wrote about a snail. My mother was so proud, she thought it would be announced on TV and kept switching channels. She died last year. She and my father were penpals. He was in the Navy. They met through writing — an amazing love story Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

They make this in Bolton and it’s a lifesaver — my voice is my life because I talk for a living. This is like the last drop of water in the desert as it’s so hard to come by Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

This is where I sit to read and write. I fall asleep and dribble; it’s embarrassing Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

The greatest magazine in the world is Groundtastic, a football grounds magazine. I was poet in residence for Barnsley FC. I love Barnsley. There’s a saying that a writer should be like a cheese — local but prized elsewhere Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

My notebook is full of ideas and observations. On the cover I’ve written Advance on Several Fronts at Once; I’ve got my band, my writing, radio shows, family Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

First thing each day I have a cup of Assam. The act of making it seems to aid creativity Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

I do a lot of gigs in schools to get people who historically haven’t been to university to go. At school I was ­encouraged by a Mr Brown who told me that anyone can do well Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian

This travelling alarm clock cost me £2. In ­radio a minute is crucial. Time is so ­important to me. I’m 52 so time is zipping on. This ­reminds me of mortality Photograph: Christopher Thormond/Guardian