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Fantasy Is My Favorite Genre For Reading And Writing. We Have More Options Than Anyone Else, And The Best Props And Special Effects. That Means If You Want To Write A Fantasy Story With Norse Gods, Sentient Robots, And Telepathic Dinosaurs, You Can Do Just That. Want To Throw In A Vampire And A Lesbian Unicorn While You're At It? Go Ahead.

-Patrick Rothfuss

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Fantasy Is My Favorite

Patrick Rothfuss

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Fantasy Is My Favorite Genre For Reading And Writing. We Have More Options Than Anyone Else, And The Best Props And Special Effects. That Means If You Want To Write A Fantasy Story With Norse Gods, Sentient Robots, And Telepathic Dinosaurs, You Can Do Just That. Want To Throw In A Vampire And A Lesbian Unicorn While You're At It? Go Ahead.

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He Was Giving Me Enough Rope To Hang Myself With. Apparently He Didn't Realize That Once A Noose Is Tied It Will Fit One Neck As Easily As Another.

There Were Two Sets Of Double Doors Leading Out Of The Antechamber, One Marked Stacks And The Other Tomes. Not Knowing The Difference Between The Two, I Headed To The Ones Labeled Stacks. That Was What I Wanted. Stacks Of Books. Great Heaps Of Books. Shelf After Endless Shelf Of Books.

I Learned To Love The Feel Of Good Words.

I Think Authors Are Just Realizing There's No Real Reason To Feel Limited To A Narrow Set Of Genre Rules In Their Writing. There's No Reason A Mystery Novel Can't Have Fantastic Elements In It. Similarly, There's No Reason Why Your Epic Fantasy Series Can't Have Elements Of A Mystery.

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.

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

There Are Three Things All Wise Men Fear: The Sea In Storm, A Night With No Moon, And The Anger Of A Gentle Man.

Sleep Marks Passing Time, Giving Us Distance From The Things That Have Hurt Us. When A Person Is Wounded They Will Often Fall Unconscious. Similarly, Someone Who Hears Traumatic News Will Often Swoon Or Faint. This Is The Mind's Way Of Protecting Itself From Pain.

Practice Makes The Master.

Books Are A Poor Substitute For Female Companionship, But They Are Easier To Find.

When We Are Children We Seldom Think Of The Future. This Innocence Leaves Us Free To Enjoy Ourselves As Few Adults Can. The Day We Fret About The Future Is The Day We Leave Our Childhood Behind.

It's A Shame You Left Without A Word, You Know. She Was Just Beginning To Trust You Before That. Before You Got Angry. Before You Ran Off. Just Like Every Other Man In Her Life. Lusting After Her, Full Of Sweet Words, Then Just Walking Away. Leaving Her Alone. Good Thing She's Used To It By Now, Isn't It? Otherwise You Might Have Hurt Her. Otherwise You Just Might Have Broken That Poor Girl's Heart

Unfortunately, A Lot Of Fantasy Is Chock Full Of Sexism And Racism. A Lot Of Authors Don't Even Realize They're Doing It, And A Lot Of Readers Don't Know They're Reading It. That's What Makes It So Scary In Some Cases.

If I Talk About What I'm Good At, I Seem Like I'm A Conceited Egomaniac.

Caffeine Helps A Lot. That And A Certain Amount Of Isolation.

We Are More Than The Parts That Form Us.

Name Of The Wind

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.

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.

Fantasy Stories

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.

Writing From A Teen's Perspective Is Easy As Pie. At Least I've Actually Been A Teen. I've Never Been A Woman, Or An Ethnic Minority, Or A Weary Old Man. If Anything, Writing From The Perspective Of A Child Is Probably Easier For Me. When I Was A Kid Everyone Thought I Was So Clever And Precocious. Now That I'm Adult, Everyone Thinks That I'm Kinda Odd And Childish.

...nothing In The World Is Harder Than Convincing Someone Of An Unfamiliar Truth.

What Were You Thinking?" Bast Said With An Odd Mixture Of Confusion And Concern. Coat Was A Long While In Answering. "i Tend To Think Too Much Bast. My Greatest Successes Tended To Come When I Stopped Thinking And Simply Did What Felt Right, Even If There Was No Explantion For What I Did.

Still, These Days When I Daydream About The Movie, I Don't Think About The Big Picture. It's More Fun For Me To Think Of Little Things That Would Add To The Movie. I Like To Think The Powers That Be Would Let Me Amuse Myself With Some Small Things In Order To Shut Me Up While They Re-write The Screenplay To Turn Kvothe Into A Lesbian, Shape-changing Unicorn.

To Deem Us Simply Enemies Is To Lose The True Flavor Of Our Relationship. It Was More Like The Two Of Us Entered Into A Business Partnership In Order To More Efficiently Pursue Our Mutual Interest Of Hating Each Other.

I Love Worldbuilding. It's As Much Fun For Me As Writing Itself. It's Like A Hobby Of Mine.

Character Is Half The Reason We Read. We're Excited Because Of The Plot, But We Care Because Of The Characters.

Dawn Was Coming. The Waystone Inn Lay In Silence, And It Was A Silence Of Three Parts.

I’d Heard You Were Dead.” "i Heard You Wear A Red Lace Corset,” I Said Matter-of-factly. “but I Don’t Believe Every Bit Of Nonsense That Gets Rumored About.

Now That I Understand How Publishing Schedules Work, I Can Understand Why Many Authors Have The Sophomore Slump. A Year Is A Long Time To Wait For A Sequel, But It's A Short, Short Time To Write A Sequel.

I Don't Actually Have Cable. I Watch Tv, But Only Shows That I Buy On Dvd. As A Result My Tv Rage Factor Is Pretty Low Right Now. I Do Have A Real Distaste For Those Extreme Makeover Shows. I Once Caught A Roommate Watching One And Proceeded To Rant For Almost 15 Solid Minutes About How, In Watching That Bullshit, She Was Actively Contributing To The Destruction Of All Civilization.

He Had A Bright, Reckless Tenor That Was Always Wandering Off, Looking For Notes In The Wrong Places.

Death Was Like An Unpleasant Neighbor. You Didn’t Talk About Him For Fear He Might Hear You And Decide To Pay A Visit.

If Your Name Is Getting Too Heavy, You Should Have Kvothe Give You A New One.

I'm Not Implying That Fantasy Is For Kids. I'm Saying That More And More People Are Finally Realizing That There's More To Fantasy Stories Than Elves And Wizards And Goblin Armies.

There Is Nothing Quite So Delightfully Mysterious As A Secret In Your Own Backyard.

It Might Not Be True, But That Doesn't Mean It's Nonsense.

There Are Two Sure Ways To Lose A Friend, One Is To Borrow, The Other To Lend.

I Was Heavily Influenced By My First Attempt At A Novel. I Started A Fantasy Novel Back In High School, And... Well... It Really Sucked. It Was A Plotless, Clichéd Mess.

I Believe It, Chronicler Found Himself Thinking. Before It Was Just A Story, But Now I Can Believe It. This Is The Face Of A Man Who Has Killed An Angel.

“i Will Admit, I've Never Had A Student Offer Himself Up For A Vicious Beating In Order To Prove He's Worth My Time.” “this Was Nothing... Once I Jumped Off A Roof.”

You Know, I Could Have Carried You.

Close Your Mouth, E'lir Kvothe, Or I Will Feel Obliged To Put Some Vile Tonic In It.

I Have Heard What Poets Write About Women. They Rhyme And Rhapsodize And Lie. I Have Watched Sailors On The Shore Stare Mutely At The Slow-rolling Swell Of The Sea. I Have Watched Old Soldiers With Hearts Like Leather Grow Teary-eyed At Their King's Colors Stretched Against The Wind. Listen To Me: These Men Know Nothing Of Love. You Will Not Find It In The Words Of Poets Or The Longing Eyes Of Sailors. If You Want To Know Of Love, Look To A Trouper's Hands As He Makes His Music. A Trouper Knows.

I Know," She Said. "you Have A Stone In Your Heart, And Some Days It's So Heavy There Is Nothing To Be Done. But You Don't Have To Be Alone For It. You Should Have Come To Me. I Understand.

Fantasy Is A Genre That Allows Me To Create Anything I Want. That, In Turn, Allows Me To Explore Any Sort Of Idea I'm Curious About. I Love It Because Fantasy Is A Genre That Asks, "what If...?" That's My Favorite Question.

Feel Free To Call Me By My First Name: Master.

Metal Rusts, Music Lasts Forever.

I Don't Think People Need To Know Much About Me To Understand The Book, Or To Enjoy It. The Book Stands By Itself. Over The Last Several Years, My Life Has Been All About Writing These Books, But The Books Aren't About My Life.

If I Seem To Wander, If I Seem To Stray, Remember That True Stories Seldom Take The Straightest Way

You Lack The Requisite Spine And Testicular Fortitude To Study Under Me.

Whenever You Write A Character, You Want To Make Them Themselves, You Want To Make Them Unique. You Don't Want Fifty Characters In Your Book And They All Pretty Much Act And Think The Same Except They Have Different Colored Hair.

It Doesn't Eat Meat." I Said. "it's A Herbivore. It's Like A Big Cow." Denna Looked At Me And Started To Laugh. Not Hysterical Laughter, But The Helpless Laughter Of Someone Who's Just Heard Something So Funny They Can't Help But Bubble Over With It. She Put Her Hands Over Her Mouth And Shook With It, The Only Sound Was A Low Huffing That Escaped Through Her Fingers. There Was Another Flash Of Blue Fire From Below. Denna Froze Midlaugh, Then Took Her Hands Away From Her Mouth. She Looked At Me, Her Eyes Wide, And Spoke Softly With A Slight Quaver In Her Voice, "mooooo.

Small Facts Lead To Great Knowing.

You Are An Educated Man. You Know There Are No Such Things As Demons." Bast Smiled A Terrible Smile. "there Is Only My Kind." Bast Leaned Closer Still, Chronicler Smelled Flowers On His Breath. "you Are Not Wise Enough To Fear Me As I Should Be Feared. You Do Not Know The First Note Of The Music That Moves Me.

It's Hard For A Newbie Author To Get Noticed.

It’s Not Over If You’re Still Here,” Chronicler Said. “it’s Not A Tragedy If You’re Still Alive.

You Can't Write Good Characters If You Can't Imagine What It's Like Being In Another Person's Skin. And If You Can Imagine That, You Naturally Want Other People's Lives To Be Better. You Want To Make That Happen.

Language Is Inexorably Tied To Power And Understanding. And Power And Understanding Are The Roots Of Magic. Just The Act Of Writing Something Down Is A Magical Act.

Could You Help Me Catch The Moon?” “i Might Be Able To Give You Some Advice,” The Old Man Said Reluctantly. “but First You Should Think This Over, Boy. When You Love Something, You Have To Make Sure It Loves You Back, Or You’ll Bring About No End Of Trouble Chasing It.

If You Open The Door And Realize Things Like The Fact That Batman Is Occupying The Same Narrative Space That Robin Hood Used To Fill 400 Years Ago, Then You Have The Freedom To Ignore The Pointless "what Is Literature" Discussion And Just Talk About Stories.

I Spoke It Soft, But Close Enough To Brush Against Her Lips. I Spoke It Quiet, But Near Enough So That The Sound Of It Went Twining Through Her Hair. I Spoke It Hard And Firm And Dark And Sweet.

Music Is A Proud, Temperamental Mistress. Give Her The Time And Attention She Deserves, And She Is Yours. Slight Her And There Will Come A Day When You Call And She Will Not Answer. So I Began Sleeping Less To Give Her The Time She Needed.

Some People Are Going To Be Impatient No Matter What. If I Wrote Two Books A Year, Someone Out There Would Be Pissed I Wasn't Writing Three.

Why Are You Smiling?' 'i'm Relieved,' I Said Honestly. 'i Was Worried I'd Given Myself Cadmium Poisoning, Or I Had Some Mysterious Disease. This Is Just Someone Trying To Kill Me.

We All Become What We Pretend To Be.

I've Waited A Long Time To Show These Flowers How Pretty You Are.

What I'd Love More Than Anything Is For Worldbuilders To Continue To Grow And Become Entangled In All The Different Corners Of The Geek Community.

I Don't Really Have A Lot Of Expensive Tastes. What Else Am I Really Going To Do With My Money? Buy A Little Red Sports Car? Wear A Lot Of Jewelry? Build A Castle? Well... I Might Do The Last One. Maybe. Eventually. But That Doesn't Mean I Can't Run Worldbuilders Too.

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In Brief, Worldbuilding Is Different Than Setting In My Opinion. Setting Is A Room. A Backdrop. It's Scenery. But Without Good Worldbuilding, You Can't Have Realistic Feeling Scenery. You Can't Have Cool, Unique Backdrops For Your Story.

Everything Said, You Couldn't Hope For A Nicer Day To Have A Half Dozen Ex-soldiers With Hunting Bows Relieve You Of Everything You Owned.

I Wanted To Tell Her That She Was The First Beautiful Thing I Had Seen In Three Years. That The Sight Of Her Yawning To The Back Of Her Hand Was Enough To Drive The Breath From Me. How I Sometimes Lost The Sense Of Her Words In The Sweet Fluting Of Her Voice. I Wanted To Say That If She Were With Me Then Somehow Nothing Could Ever Be Wrong For Me Again.

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I Have An Apple That Thinks Its A Pear. And A Bun That Thinks It’s A Cat. And A Lettuce That Thinks Its A Lettuce." "it’s A Clever Lettuce, Then." "hardly," She Said With A Delicate Snort. "why Would Anything Clever Think It’s A Lettuce?" "even If It Is A Lettuce?" I Asked. "especially Then," She Said. "bad Enough To Be A Lettuce. How Awful To Think You Are A Lettuce Too.

Did I Ever Mention I Used To Be A Delivery Driver Too? I Was. I Can Read A Map. What’s More, Using A Brilliant Mixture Of Zen Navigation, Aristotelian Logic, And Pure Rage I Can Get You Your Package And/or Delicious Sandwich Relatively Close To On-time.

I Take Back Everything I Ever Said About That Boy Being Clever." He Turned Around To Face The Bar While Leveling An Accusatory Finger At The Closed Door. "that," He Said Firmly To The Room In General, "is What Comes Of Working With Iron Every Day.

All Stories Are True," Skarpi Said. "but This One Really Happened, If That's What You Mean.

Here's The Thing: Authors Live Or Die By Recommendations. [that's One Of The Reason I Review So Many Books On Goodreads.] Giving Books You Love Good Reviews Is One Of The Nicest Things You Can Do For An Author. What's More It's Good For The Entire Community.

But It Isn’t A Rough Draft Either. The One I Turned In Several Months Ago Was Rough. There Were Some Bad Plot Holes, Some Logical Inconsistencies, Pacing Problems, And Not Nearly Enough Lesbian Unicorns.

Is There A Connection Between Language And Magic? Yes. Ten Times Yes. So Much Yes That It Almost Doesn't Bear Talking About. It's As Pointless That Arguing That The Sun Is Hot.

I'll String A Fiddle With Your Guts And Make You Play It While I Dance.

Name Of The Wind

Stand Alone Books Are Nice Because They Have Everything All In One Tidy Little Package. Neverwhere Was Awesome Because You Get Action, Adventure, Character Development, The Exploration Of A Strange World, Plus Resolution Of All The Problems And Mysteries At The End. No Lines No Waiting. That's Very Satisfying. Multi-volume Stories Are Satisfying Too, Just In A Different Way.

I'm Honestly Not A Big Fan Of Pitching Things. I'm A Firm Believer Of Letting The Product Speak For Iteself.

Science Is Just Magic With Better Pr.

Re'lar Kvothe," He Said Seriously. "i Am Trying To Wake Your Sleeping Mind To The Subtle Language The World Is Whispering. I Am Trying To Seduce You Into Understanding. I Am Trying To Teach You." He Leaned Forward Until His Face Was Almost Touching Mine. "quit Grabbing At My Tits.

It's Hard For Me To Take Myself Too Seriously When I'm Constantly Experiencing Firsthand What An Incredible Gimp I Can Be.

The Desire For Knowledge Shapes A Man.

Nobody Cooks Using Just One Ingredient. Why Would You Write Using Just One Flavor Of Story?

Some Of My Arcanum Bunkmates Taught Me A Card Game Called Dogs-breath. I Returned The Favor By Giving An Impromptu Lesson In Psychology, Probability, And Manual Dexterity. I Won Almost Two Whole Talents Before They Stopped Inviting Me Back To Their Games.

But To Love Something Despite. To Know The Flaws And Love Them Too. This Is Rare And Pure And Perfect.

After A Certain Point Is Reached The Numbers Cease To Matter, And All That Remains Is The Faceless Mass Of A Crowd.

I Was Pretty Poor For A Long Time. Not *poor* Poor. But College Student Poor. I Lived For Most Of My Adult Life Living On Student Wages, Then After I Got My Ma And Started Teaching, I Lived On Teacher's Wages, Which Isn't Much Better.

Stories Only Happen To People Who Can Tell Them.

Chronicler Picked Up His Pen, But Before He Could Dip It, Kvothe Held Up A Hand. "let Me Say One Thing Before I Start. I've Told Stories In The Past, Painted Pictures With Words, Told Hard Lies And Harder Truths. Once, I Sang Colors To A Blind Man. Seven Hours I Played, But At The End He Said He Saw Them, Green And Red And Gold. That, I Think, Was Easier Than This. Trying To Make You Understand Her With Nothing More Than Words. You Have Never Seen Her, Never Heard Her Voice. You Cannot Know.

That Is How Heavy A Secret Can Become. It Can Make Blood Flow Easier Than Ink.

It's My Belief That You Should Never Show Your Work To Anyone In The Publishing World Until It Shines Like A Diamond. Rough Drafts Don't Shine, As A Rule. Mine Certainly Didn't. That's Why I Was Rejected For Years And Years.

Isn't That The Way Of The World? We Want The Sweet Things, But We Need The Unpleasant Ones.

By Your Logic I Should Also Be In Charge Of Solinade Dances, Needlework, And Horse Thieving.

For Most Practical Purposes Tarbean Had Two Pieces: Waterside And Hillside. Waterside Is Where People Are Poor. That Makes Them Beggars, Thieves, And Whores. Hillside Is Where People Are Rich. That Makes Them Solicitors, Politicians, And Courtesans.

If The Beard Gives A Modifier To Seduction, I'm Guessing It's Not A Positive One.

She Was A Wicked Thing Sometimes. All Full Of Want. As If The Shape Of The World Depended On Her Mood. As If She Were Important.

You See, Women Are Like Fires, Like Flames. Some Women Are Like Candles, Bright And Friendly. Some Are Like Single Sparks, Or Embers, Like Fireflies For Chasing On Summer Nights. Some Are Like Campfires, All Light And Heat For A Night And Willing To Be Left After. Some Women Are Like Hearthfires, Not Much To Look At But Underneath They Are All Warm Red Coal That Burns A Long, Long While.

Half A King Is My Favorite Book By Joe Abercrombie So Far, And That's Saying Something.

It's Hard To Be Wrongfully Accused, But It's Worse When The People Looking Down On You Are Clods Who Have Never Read A Book Or Traveled More Than Twenty Miles From The Place They Were Born.

But Even This Piece Of Flattery Couldn't Distract Me From The Fact That I Was In The Center Of The Fae Realm, Blind, Stark Naked, And Without The Slightest Idea Of What Was Going On.

She Looked At Me. "what? Is There Something Wrong With My Idea?" "it's Not Very Heroic," I Said Dismissively. "i Was Expecting Something With A Little More Flair." "well, I Left My Armor And Warhorse At Home," She Said. "you're Just Upset Because Your Big University Brain Couldn't Think Of A Way, And My Plan Is Brilliant.

We Have More Brilliant Fantasy Novels Than Brilliant Fantasy Movies. Movies And Tv Are Done By Committee. But With A Novel, It's Really Just One Person Running The Show. That Allows For A Clarity And Unity Of Vision That's Pretty Unique, Artistically.

I Knelt And Opened Up My Lute Case. Moving The Lute Aside, I Pressed The Lid Of The Secret Compartment And Twisted It Open. I Slid Threpe's Sealed Letter Inside, Where It Joined The Hollow Horn With Nina's Drawing And A Small Sack Of Dried Apple I Had Stowed There. There Was Nothing Special About The Dried Apple, But In My Opinion If You Have A Secret Compartment In Your Lute Case And Don't Use It To Hide Things, There Is Something Terribly, Terribly Wrong With You.

The Framed Tale Is, In My Opinion, One Of The Most Natural Ways To Tell A Story. If You Think Of It, The Conceit Of The Frame-less Story Is Actually The Odd Way Of Doing Things. Without The Frame, How Do You Know The Context For A Story?

For People Who Don't Know, The Fundraiser Works Like This: People Donate To Worldbuilders And They're Automatically Entered To Win Geeky Swag In The Lottery. We're Just Starting Week Two And We're Already Giving Away More Than $40,000 Of Books And Games.

It's Easier To Write About Heartbreak After You've Had Your Heart Broken. You Have More Material To Draw From, You Can Extrapolate From Your Own Experiences And Make Reasonable Assumptions About How Your Characters Would Feel And Act.

But Sometimes The Best Help A Person Can Find Is Helping Someone Else.

Helping Someone

The Waystone Was His, Just As The Third Silence Was His. This Was Appropriate, As It Was The Greatest Silence Of The Three, Wrapping The Others Inside Itself. It Was Deep And Wide As Autumn’s Ending. It Was Heavy As A Great River-smooth Stone. It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

Abenthy Gave Me An Appraising Look. I'd Been Waiting For It. It Was The Look That Said, "you Don't Sound As Young As You Look." I Hoped He'd Come To Grips With It Fairly Soon. It Gets Tiresome Being Spoken To As If You Are A Child, Even If You Happen To Be One.

I Think The Best Part Of Being An Author Is That I Get To Learn About Anything I Want And Explain It Away As Research.

Perhaps The Greatest Faculty Our Minds Possess Is The Ability To Cope With Pain.

It Was Wise Enough To Know Itself, And Brave Enough To Be Itself, And Wild Enough To Change Itself While Somehow Staying Altogether True.

Just Because I Tread Heavily On Propriety's Toes Doesn't Mean I Can't Play The Game When It's Of Use To Me.

Do You Just Want To Get By? Or Do You Want To Make Me Proud?

There Is Nothing I Can't Do Writing In Fantasy. I Can Have Romance, I Can Have Mystery, I Can Have Drama, I Can Have Good Characters - I Can Have Everything You Can Do In Any Other Genre... Plus A Dragon.

All The Truth In The World Is Held In Stories.

There Is Only One Whedon, And I Am His Prophet.

Humor Is Important. If You're Going To Tell Any Sort Of Realistic Story, You're Going To Have To Have Humor In It, Because People Are Funny. Clever People Especially.

Are You Hurt?" "absolutely," I Said. "especially In My Everywhere.

Then I Felt Something Inside Me Break And Music Began To Pour Out Into The Quiet. My Fingers Danced; Intricate And Quick They Spun Something Gossamer And Tremulous Into The Circle Of Light Our Fire Had Made. The Music Moved Like A Spiderweb Stirred By A Gentle Breath, It Changed Like A Leaf Twisting As It Falls To The Ground, And It Felt Like Three Years Waterside In Tarbean, With A Hollowness Inside You And Hands That Ached From The Bitter Cold.

We Try To Spread The Word About The Charity By Doing Fun Little Stunts To Catch People's Attention. Like When Hank Green Did A Music Video For Us.

What Has Made Me Most Proud - The Things That I've Done That I Feel The Most Pride About - Is Helping People Care About Making The World Better.

A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing.

Speculative Fiction Is Where My Heart Lies. It's What I Read Growing Up, And It's What I Read As An Adult.

Sought We The Scrivani Word-work Of Surthur Long-long In Ledger All Hope Forgotten Yet Fast-found For Friendship Fair The Book-bringer Hot Comes The Huntress Fela, Flushed With Finding Breathless Her Breast Her High Blood Rising To Ripen The Red-cheek Rouge-bloom Of Beauty.

It's Like The Query Letter Problem That I Just Mentioned, Magnified A Hundredfold. You Might Be Good At Telling A Story, But That Doesn't Mean You Know Anything About Marketing. Or Layout. Or Editing. Or Publicity. Or Selling Your Books For Foreign Markets.everyone Can Point To A Few Examples Of People That Have Done Very Well For Themselves Self-publishing. But Honestly, Those Folks Are Lucky As Lottery Winners.

Anger Can Keep You Warm At Night, And Wounded Pride Can Spur A Man To Wondrous Things.

I've Always Liked The Moonless Night Best. It's Easier To Say Things In The Dark. It's Easier To Be Yourself.

Clean, Quick, And Easy As Lying. We Know How It Ends Practically Before It Starts. That's Why Stories Appeal To Us. They Give Is The Clarity And Simplicity Our Real Lives Lack.

Good Lord Woman. If I Had Tits Like Yours I'd Own Half The World By Now.

On The Other Hand, Winning Awards Is Cool. Aside From The Warm Fuzzy, It Creates Publicity, And That Helps Spread The Word About The Book. Plus, This Award Was A Plaque Of Some Sort. I Could Have Used That For All Sorts Of Things. Obviously It Would Be Useful For Decorating The Barren Walls Of My House And Intimidating My Enemies, But That's Just For Starters.

Also, Worldbuilding Touches All Aspects Of Your Story. It Touches Plot And Character As Well. If You Don't Know The Culture Your Character Comes From, How Can You Know What He's Really Like? You Must Know Your Characters On A Much Deeper Level Than You Would If You Just Shrugged Your Way Into A Cookie Cutter Fantasy World.

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.

Music Sounds Different To The One Who Plays It. It Is The Musician's Curse.

I Guess I'm Destined To Be Loveless

Why Would I Want To Win Anything Other Than A Beautiful Game?

We Need Time To Relax And Enjoy Ourselves Too, No Matter How Dark The Story. The Occasional Humorous Moment Helps With That. That's One Of The Things That Joss Whedon Excels At In His Storytelling.

I Will Say The Most Raw Joy I've Experienced Reading Has Probably Come From The Times I've Been Reading With My Little Boys.

Half Of Seeming Clever Is Keeping Your Mouth Shut At The Right Times.

Keeping Your Mouth Shut

It Is Quite A Thing. There Are So Many Men, All Endlessly Trying To Sweep Me Off My Feet. And There Is One Of You, Trying Just The Opposite. Making Sure My Feet Are Firm Beneath Me Lest I Fall.

The Way I Cook It's More Like Mad Science. There's A Lot Of Inspiration And Dramatic Failure With The Occasional Gorgeous Success.

I Don't Try To Take A Person Out Of Our World And Put Them Into My World; That Wouldn't Work. It's Sort Of Like Bad Photoshop: If You See Something Photoshopped Together - And Even If It's Done Pretty Well - The Eye Catches On It. That Happens A Lot When People Try To Cut And Paste People From Our World Into Their Fourteenth-century Historical Romance Novel.

No Man Is Brave That Has Never Walked A Hundred Miles. If You Want To Know The Truth Of Who You Are, Walk Until Not A Person Knows Your Name. Travel Is The Great Leveler, The Great Teacher, Bitter As Medicine, Crueler Than Mirror-glass. A Long Stretch Of Road Will Teach You More About Yourself Than A Hundred Years Of Quiet Introspection.

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 Believe A Writer's Most Important Skill Lies In Being Able To See Things From Different Perspectives.

No Hard Feelings About That Time In The Crucible When You Mixed My Salts And I Was Nearly Blind For A Day. No. No, Really, Drink Up!

Hours Later The Blank Sheet Still Stared At Me, And I Beat My Fist Against The Desk In Fury And Fustration, Striking It So Hard My Hand Bled. That Is How Heavy A Secret Can Become. It Can Make Blood Flow Easier Than Ink.

All Explicit Knowledge Is Translated Knowledge, And All Translation Is Imperfect.

You Still Think I've Gone Cracked In The Head," Ben Said, Amused. "listen, If Tomorrow We Pulled Into Biren And Someone Told You There Were Shamble-men In The Woods, Would You Believe Them?" My Father Shook His Head. "what If Two People Told You?" Another Shake. Ben Leaned Forward On His Stump. "what If A Dozen People Told You, With Perfect Earnestness, That Shamble-men Were Out In The Fields, Eating-" "of Course I Wouldn't Believe Them," My Father Said, Irritated. "it's Ridiculous." "of Course It Is," Ben Agreed, Raising A Finger. "but The Real Question Is This: Would You Go Into The Woods?

A Tree Doesn't Make A Thunderstorm, But Any Fool Knows Where Lightning's Going To Strike.

It Gets Tiresome Being Spoken To As If You Are A Child, Even If You Happen To Be One.

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.

Fear Tends To Come From Ignorance. Once I Knew What The Problem Was, It Was Just A Problem, Nothing To Fear.

Sometimes When I Get Up After Writing, I'm Surprised At How My Body Feels. Suddenly I'm Not A Lanky, Hungry Young Boy Any More. It's No Fun Putting On Ten Years And Fifty Pounds All Of A Sudden. Other Times, I Get Up And I'm Pleasantly Surprised That I'm Not A Weary Innkeeper, Hopeless, With Bones That Feel Like They're Made Of Lead. I Really Sink Into The Characters That I Write.

Only A Fool Worries Over What He Can’t Control.

...hear Rumors And Go Digging For The Painful Truth Beneath The Lovely Lies. You Believe You Have A Right To These Things, But You Don't. When Someone Tells You A Piece Of Their Life, They're Giving You A Gift, Not Granting You Your Due.

He Then Proceeded To Shout At Alpha And Beta, A Sign That He Was In A Genuine Good Mood. They Took It As Calmly As Ever, In Spite Of The Fact That He Accused Them Of Things I'm Sure No Donkey Has Ever Willingly Done, Especially Not Beta, Who Possessed Impeccable Moral Character.

I Do This So You Cannot Help But Hear. A Wise Man Views A Moonless Night With Fear.

I'd Like To Work With Some Of The Videogame Companies For The Simple Fact That They Obviously Need Some Sort Of Writer's Help. I Play Videogames, And Lately It's Hard For Me To Enjoy Them Because I'm Spending All My Time Cringing At The Corny Dialogue, Thin Characters, And Glaring Plot Holes.

I Also Felt Guilty About The Three Pens I'd Stolen, But Only For A Second. And Since There Was No Convenient Way To Give Them Back, I Stole A Bottle Of Ink Before I Left.

To Be Both Rich And Handsome Was Bad Enough. But To Have A Voice Like Honey Over Warm Bread On Top Of That Was Simply Inexcusable.

Just A Little. Just The First Faint Breath Of Love... It Wasn’t Dramatic, Like Some Bolt Of Lightning With A Crack Of Thunder Following. It Was More Like When Flint Strikes Steel And The Spark Fades Almost Too Fast For You To See. But Still, You Know It’s There, Down Where You Can’t See, Kindling.

Elodin Proved A Difficult Man To Find. He Had An Office In Hollows, But Never Seemed To Use It. When I Visited Ledgers And Lists, I Discovered He Only Taught One Class: Unlikely Maths. However, This Was Less Than Helpful In Tracking Him Down, As According To The Ledger, The Time Of The Class Was 'now' And The Location Was 'everywhere.

I Took A Deep Breath, 'i Took The Nahlrout Because I Didn't Want To Faint. I Needed To Let Them Know They Couldn't Hurt Me. I've Learned That The Best Way To Stay Safe Is To Make Your Enemies Think You Can't Be Hurt.' It Sounded Ugly To Say It So Starkly, But It Was The Truth. I Looked At Him Defiantly.

My Shrug Was So Nonchalant It Would Make A Cat Jealous

A Lot Of New Writers Assume You Have To Know The Where The Story Is Going And That It Flows Out As Molten Gold. But Really, Sometimes You Think You Are Going To One Place, But Then You Decide That Is Dumb Idea. Then You Go Somewhere Else And It Is A Worse Idea. But Then You Switch Again And You Might Have A Beautiful Accident.

My Parents Danced Together, Her Head On His Chest. Both Had Their Eyes Closed. They Seemed So Perfectly Content. If You Can Find Someone Like That, Someone Who You Can Hold And Close Your Eyes To The World With, Then You're Lucky. Even If It Only Lasts For A Minute Or A Day. The Image Of Them Gently Swaying To The Music Is How I Picture Love In My Mind Even After All These Years.

Using Words To Talk Of Words Is Like Using A Pencil To Draw A Picture Of Itself, On Itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... But There Are Other Ways To Understanding.

Fantasy Is My Favorite Genre For Reading And Writing. We Have More Options Than Anyone Else, And The Best Props And Special Effects. That Means If You Want To Write A Fantasy Story With Norse Gods, Sentient Robots, And Telepathic Dinosaurs, You Can Do Just That. Want To Throw In A Vampire And A Lesbian Unicorn While You're At It? Go Ahead.

The Day We Fret About The Future Is The Day We Leave Our Childhood Behind.

Roses! I Swear You Men Have All Your Romance From The Same Worn Book. Flowers Are A Good Thing, A Sweet Thing To Give A Lady. But It Is Always Roses, Always Red, And Always Perfect Hothouse Blooms When They Can Come By Them.

I Have Stolen Princesses Back From Sleeping Barrow Kings. I Burned Down The Town Of Trebon. I Have Spent The Night With Felurian And Left With Both My Sanity And My Life. I Was Expelled From The University At A Younger Age Than Most People Are Allowed In. I Tread Paths By Moonlight That Others Fear To Speak Of During Day. I Have Talked To Gods, Loved Women, And Written Songs That Make The Minstrels Weep. You May Have Heard Of Me.

Owls Are Wise. They Are Careful And Patient. Wisdom Precludes Boldness. That Is Why Owls Make Poor Heroes.

I Grew Up Reading Tolkien, And I Love Him. But I Love Him In The Way That You Love That Rambly Old Grandfather. You Have To Sit Through Some Pretty Off-topic Stuff Before He Starts Telling His Cool Old War Stories.

Denna Is A Wild Thing," I Explained. "like A Hind Or A Summer Storm. If A Storm Blows Down Your House, Or Breaks A Tree, You Don't Say The Storm Was Mean. It Was Cruel. It Acted According To Its Nature And Something Unfortunately Was Hurt. The Same Is True Of Denna.

If I'd Been Whoring Before Class And Waved A Corset At Him, No One Would Have Thought Twice About It!

The Key To Good Worldbuilding Is Leaving Out Most Of What You Create. You, As The Author, Had Damn Well Better Know The Where All That Dragon Food Comes From, But That Doesn't Mean That I, As A Reader, Want To Read A Five Thousand Word Essay About You Explaining It To Me. I Don't Need To See The Math, But I Can Tell By The Details You Provide Whether Or Not You've Thought These Things Through To Their Logical Conclusions.

It Was Only Then I Realized I Didn't Know The Name Of Elodin's Class. I Leafed Through The Ledger Until I Spotted Elodin's Name, Then Ran My Finger Back To Where The Title Of The Class Was Listed In Fresh Dark Ink: "introduction To Not Being A Stupid Jackass." I Sighed And Penned My Name In The Single Blank Space Beneath.

Words Are Pale Shadows Of Forgotten Names. As Names Have Power, Words Have Power. Words Can Light Fires In The Minds Of Men. Words Can Wring Tears From The Hardest Hearts. There Are Seven Words That Will Make A Person Love You. There Are Ten Words That Will Break A Strong Man's Will. But A Word Is Nothing But A Painting Of A Fire. A Name Is The Fire Itself.

We Need To Read Good Books, And For That To Happen, We Need To Share Good Books.

I Need You To Breathe For Me.

He Taught Only One Class: 'unlikely Maths'. But Since The Time Was Listed As "now" And The Place, "everywhere," This Was Hardly Helpful In Tracking Him Down.

I'm Not A Big Fan Of Overt Marketing. I'd Much Rather Just Put Things Out There For People To See. I'm Just Putting It Out There For People To See. If People Think This Is Cool, I'm Hoping They'll Tell Their Friends.

...if I Have Ever Met Someone Without A Single Shadow On Their Heart, It Was Surely A Child Too Young For Speaking.

Just Pity Him, My Boy. Tomorrow We'll Be On Our Way, But He'll Have To Keep His Own Disagreeable Company Until The Day He Dies.

I Thought Of All The Others Who Had Tried To Tie Her To The Ground And Failed. So I Resisted Showing Her The Songs And Poems I Had Written, Knowing That Too Much Truth Can Ruin A Thing. And If That Meant She Wasn't Entirely Mine, What Of It? I Would Be The One She Could Always Return To Without Fear Of Recrimination Or Question. So I Did Not Try To Win Her And Contented Myself With Playing A Beautiful Game. But There Was Always A Part Of Me That Hoped For More, And So There Was A Part Of Me That Was Always A Fool.

Hespe's Mouth Went Firm. She Didn't Scowl Exactly, But It Looked Like She Was Getting All The Pieces Of A Scowl Together In One Place, Just In Case She Needed Them In A Hurry.

You Do Not Know The First Note Of The Music That Moves Me.

In My Opinion If You Have A Secret Compartment In Your Lute Case And Don't Use It To Hide Things, There Is Something Terribly, Terribly Wrong With You.

What Are The Three Most Important Rules Of The Chemist?" This I Knew From Ben. "label Clearly. Measure Twice. Eat Elsewhere.

I Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

After Two Years Of Sending Out Query Letters And Failing To Get An Agent, I Made Friends With An Author, Who Was Nice Enough To Introduce Me To His Agent. That Got My Foot In The Door.

It Wasn't Even A Good Note. 'if You Are Reading This I Am Probably Dead.' What Sort Of A Note Is That?

Name Of The Wind

Auri Took It, And Peered Inside The Small Leather Sack. “why This Is Lovely, Kvothe. What Lives In The Salt?” Trace Minerals, I Thought. Chromium, Bassal, Malium, Iodine . . . Everything Your Body Needs But Probably Can’t Get From Apples And Bread And Whatever You Manage To Scrounge Up When I Can’t Find You. “the Dreams Of Fish,” I Said. “and Sailor’s Songs.

My Granda Always Told Me That Fall's The Time To Root Up Something You Don't Want Coming Back To Trouble You.' Kote Mimicked The Quaver Of An Old Man's Voice. 'things Are Too Full Of Life In The Spring Months. In The Summer, They're Too Strong And Won't Let Go. Autumn...' He Looked Around At The Changing Leaves On The Trees. 'autumn's The Time. In Autumn Everything Is Tired And Ready To Die.

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