Evan Price is not a man to be questioned. He is a man who will question you.
I’d rather excite the imagination of a legion of readers and make pennies from each of them than hold off for a larger chunk of change from only a handful of fans.
It’s easy to forgo distractions and to not accumulate things when you have a larger goal on the horizon.
There are two competing philosophies in Wool: one is that people have to live under an iron thumb in order to survive, and the other one is that everyone should live completely freely and happily and everything will sort itself out.
One of the many things that surprised me about ‘Wool’ is how many of its fans don’t consider themselves science fiction readers.
Ever since I was twelve, I dreamed of being an author. I just never had the fortitude to see any of my stories through to completion. I would start a book, get a few chapters in, and grow bored or get distracted by something else.
Statistics were magic like this: they could tell you with near-certainty that a thing would occur, without a hint of when or where.
I am about to die. It is September 11, and every cell in my body is acutely aware of my looming demise. The certainty of it. The inevitability. Not years from now, not weeks nor days. Moments.
We devolve into animals when we creep near to death.
Run, we think, as buildings crumble. Run, as people perish.
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A seed of hope caught a taste of moisture. Some wishful kernel buried deep, where he was loathe to acknowledge it lest it poison or choke him, began to sprout.
My life is too tight, he wanted to say. My skin is too tight. The walls are too tight.
I’m coming for you. I’m coming home, I’m coming to clean.
He thought of men like Hitler, Stalin, and Napoleon. All it took was a lot of seemingly decent people to put the wrong person in power and then fall under their spell.
Even in the darkness, his smile threw shadows.
When there’s only God to blame, we forgive him. When it’s our fellow man, we destroy him.
My only wish is that we leave room for hope. There is good and bad in all things. We find what we expect to find. We see what we expect to see. I have learned that if I tilt my head just right and squint, the world outside is beautiful. The future is bright. There are good things to come.
I use social media not to ask new people to like my stuff. I use social media to connect with that one reader who likes my stuff.
There were certain things, learned so young and remembered so deep that they felt like little stones in the center of her mind.