Everyone knows one story, I thought. Everyone knows at least one.
By your logic I should also be in charge of Solinade dances, needlework, and horse thieving.
For me, language is something that I’ve always loved. When I read, that’s what I look for. When I write, that’s what I strive for.
There is nothing quite so delightfully mysterious as a secret in your own backyard.
One of them had a large wooden sign nailed to its door proclaiming, NO SYMPATHY! I wondered what non-arcane visitors might think of the warning.
I’ve always liked the moonless night best. It’s easier to say things in the dark. It’s easier to be yourself.
I learned to love the feel of good words.
The boy grows upward, but the girl grows up.
Don’t get me wrong, hard and soft fantasy stories can both be good. But you need to know which camp you’re in. I’m into realism. I’m a hard fantasy guy.
It was more exciting when I didn’t know I had permission.
That was another lesson I had learned perhaps too well: people meant pain.
The desire for knowledge shapes a man.
It’s hard for a newbie author to get noticed.
Small facts lead to great knowing.
There is something powerfully beguiling about the excited eyes of a young woman. They can pull all manner of nonsense out of a foolish young man, and I was no exception to this rule.
I do this so you cannot help but hear. A wise man views a moonless night with fear.
Secrets of the heart. We swallow hard against them every day, forcing them deep inside us. There they sit, growing heavier, festering. Given enough time, they cannot help but crush the heart that holds them.
I’m not a role model. I’m an aberation. A statistical anomoly. Following in my footsteps is about the dumbest thing you could ever do.
I’m not a speed writer. I write slowly and revise obsessively. The end result tends to be good. That’s where my strength is.
It’s not prowess if you watch 5 hours of TV a day. It’s just how you choose to spend your time.
Nobody cooks using just one ingredient. Why would you write using just one flavor of story?