Linda Ronstadt Discusses Her Memoir and Parkinson's SAN FRANCISCO - The first thing to know about Linda Ronstadt is that if you ring the bell at her home here, on a sedate street with views of the ocean, she'll answer the door herself. At least she did on a recent Monday morning. She wore a pink hoodie and jeans, her short dark hair framing the oval face that ornamented album and magazine covers throughout the 1970s and "80s, when Ms. Ronstadt was rock "n" roll's biggest and most alluring female star, with albums like "Heart Like a Wheel" and "Living in the U.S.A." that helped define the polished music of her era. In the living room, near the Yamaha baby grand, Ms. Ronstadt settled into a chair, rested her white high-top sneakers on an ottoman and discussed her new book, "Simple Dreams: A Musical Memoir," which is being published this month. In recent years, Ms. Ronstadt has drawn more attention for her outspoken politics, decidedly liberal, than for her music. Full of opinions - don't get her started on current immigration law - her words pour forth in a fluent, hyper-articulate rush. But for many, she remains her generation's premier female pop vocalist, and they wonder why she hasn't released an album since 2006 or appeared in concert since her mariachi show in 2009. For a trouper like Ms. Ronstadt, a steady presence for 40 years, silence so prolonged must have a reason. True, she is 67, but age hasn't stopped contemporaries like Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Emmylou Harris. "I can't do it, because of my health," Ms. Ronstadt said. I have Parkinson's. The news was first reported in the AARP Magazine online on Aug. 23. She held out a slightly trembling hand. Her vocal cords are also affected. "I can't sing at all," she said, matter-of-factly. I'm truly not able. I can't sing "Happy Birthday," really." She had been aware for more than a decade that something was wrong, but those closest to her suspected it might be just another instance of the performance anxiety for which she is well known. "You can sing," her former manager and longtime producer, Peter Asher, remembered telling her. You're crazy. Don't be insecure. But, as usual, he added, "Linda was right." She got the news in June. Fearful of doctors, she had put off going to a neurologist until a guitarist friend, observing the unsteady hands, said she must go. "I never in a million years thought I had Parkinson's, not in a million years," she said. Now I don't know what to do. I have to find a support group. I have to call Michael Pollan. He's responsible for all this. Mr. Pollan, the brother-in-law of Michael J. Fox, who also has Parkinson's, said Ms. Ronstadt has not discussed her illness with him. By "all this" she meant not her health, but the book, which was completed before doctors confirmed that she has Parkinson's. "I never wanted to write a book," she said. I never wanted anyone else to write a book. I thought, "Let it end when it ends." " She also wasn't sure she was up to the task. A voracious reader who can quote Henry James verbatim, Ms. Ronstadt has, if anything, too much respect for the written word. But at dinner one night, Mr. Pollan, the journalist and author, urged her to reconsider. She told him: "I don't have any craft. I don't have any skill. And he said everybody has at least one good story in them that they can pull out. There was another fact to weigh, her dwindling savings. Ms. Ronstadt released many albums but wrote very few songs, so her royalty checks are small. "Writers make all the money," she said. Her most memorable hits - "You're No Good," "Heart Like a Wheel," "Blue Bayou" - were written by others. "I was making good money when I was touring," she said. But now "I just can't do it." "I can't make one note," she said. I have a hard time calling the cab at night. And so a book, and the advance it would bring, began to make sense. Ms. Ronstadt read Plácido Domingo's memoir and Rosanne Cash's, and liked both. She also liked Keith Richards's "Life" (she's in it) and was impressed by how well his co-writer, James Fox, captured his voice. But her own meeting with a prospective collaborator didn't work: "I knew I would never give him any information. I'm too good at dodging questions.