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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.

-Patrick Rothfuss

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I Don't Try To

Patrick Rothfuss

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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.

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Truth Is A Troublesome Motherfucker Unless It's Handled Properly

I'm Kind Of Balanced Between Excited About The Potential Of The Project, And The Knowledge That I Shouldn't Get My Hopes Up. I Like To Be Practical, And The Truth Is, These Deals Fall Apart All The Time.

Metal Rusts, Music Lasts Forever.

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

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.

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.

Joss [whedon] Is An Excellent Storyteller. It Really Doesn't Matter What Medium He's Working In.

My Most Popular Blogs End Up Being The Ones Where I Talk About Being A Dad.

I Can't Count The Men Who Have Tried To Seduce Me Away From My Virtue By Teaching Me How To Defend It.

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.

That Is Like Throwing Two Virgins Into A Bed. Enthusiasm, Passion, And Ignorance Are Not A Good Combination. Someone Is Likely To Get Hurt.

For Me The Really Cool Parts Of Being An Author Don't Have Anything To Do With Getting Onto A Bestseller List.

Right Now My Favorite Thing Is Working To Recall Our Absolute Shitbag Of A Governor. He's Been Screwing Up My State For More Than A Year. I Want Him Out.

Favorites Things

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

Most Games Follow A Real Railroad Plot, No Matter What You Want, You're Following Their Storyline To Its Unavoidable Conclusion. I'd Like To Write A Game Where Your Character Can Follow Any Number Of Possible Story Arcs And Sub-plots.

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

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

Small Facts Lead To Great Knowing.

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.

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

Keeping Your Mouth Shut

I've Read Fantasy My Whole Life. Quite Literally; My Mom Read Me The Hobbit Before I Could Read Stuff To Myself. So I Love Fantasy; That's What I Read For Fun, It's What I Read Professionally To Keep Abreast Of What's In The Genre - It's Where My Heart Is.

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.

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 Have No Balance. My Life Is A Hot Mess.

Reading Can Almost Be Viewed As Empathy Training. Movies Have Better Action Scenes, Sure. But Books Are Uniquely Suited To Showing You The Inside Of Another Person's Head. That Is The Root Of Empathy. That's The First Step To Understanding You're Not Alone In The World.

Words Have To Find A Man's Mind Before They Can Touch His Heart, And Some Men's Minds Are Woefully Small Targets.

I'm Pretty Good At Putting Up Drywall And I'm An Excellent Kisser. That's Pretty Much All Of My Skills Right There.

I Would Never Normally Approach A Woman In This Way, But I Couldn't Help But Notice That You Have The Eyes Of A Lady I Was Once Desperately In Love With. " "what A Shame To Love Only Once," She Said, Showing Her White Teeth In A Wicked Smile. "i've Heard Some Men Can Manage Twice Or Even More." I Ignored Her Gibe. "i Am Only A Fool Once. Never Will I Love Again.

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

I've Never Really Understood The Desire People Have To Quantify A Baby. "he's X Big And Y Long," As If The Baby Is A Fish You're Not Sure You're Going To Keep. Or Some Prize Potato You're Hoping Will Win A Prize At The County Fair.

The Truth Is I've Worked A Lot Of Things People Would Consider Shitty Jobs But I've Never Really Hated Any Of Them.

Fencing Is More A Sport Than A Martial Art. It Would Be Like Basing Your Knowledge Of Roman Phalanx Warfare On Nfl Football.

It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

The Air Was Heavy With The Smell Of Leather And Dust, Of Old Parchment And Binding Glue. It Smelled Of Secrets.

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

Helping Someone

Beer Dulls A Memory, Brand Sets It Burning, But Wine Is The Best For A Sore Heart's Yearning.

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

If You're Going To Have A Book Full Of Clever People And Nobody Ever Jokes, It's Just Not Going To Ring True To The Reader. That Said, Humor Writing Is The Hardest Kind Of Writing There Is.

Its Like He Knows He's Better Than You, But Doesn't Look Down On You For It Because He Knows It's Not Your Fault.

In The Hours That Followed, I Learned That Ademic Hand Gestures Did Not Actually Represent Facial Expressions. It Was Nothing So Simple As That. For Example A Smile Can Mean You're Amused, Happy, Grateful, Or Satisfied. You Can Smile To Comfort Someone. You Can Smile Because You're Content Or Because You're In Love. A Grimace Or A Grin Look Similar To A Smile, But They Mean Entirely Different Things. Imagine Trying To Teach Someone How To Smile. Imagine Trying To Describe What Different Smiles Mean And When, Precisely, To Use Them In Conversation. It's Harder Than Learning To Walk.

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.

The Chancellor Looked Down At The Empty Table For A Minute. Then He Shrugged, Looked Up, And Gave A Surprisingly Jaunty Smile. "all In Favor Of Admitting First-term Kvothe's Reckless Use Of Sympathy As Proof Of Mastery Of Basic Principles Of Sympathy Vote By Show Of Hands.

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.

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

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.

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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.

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A Troublesome Question? Those Tend To Be The Only Whorthwhile Kind.

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I've Got An Idea For A Modern Day Faerie Tale That I Think Would Made A Great Short Novel. But I Just Don't Have The Time To Work On It Right Now. I'm Way Too Busy With The 'kingkiller Chronicles' And Being A New Dad.

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

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Writing A Good Query Letter Has Very Little To Do With Writing A Good Novel. But If You Can't Write The One, It Makes It Really Hard To Get The Other Published.

I'd Love To Get A Chance To Talk Shop With Joss Whedon. That's Pretty High Up There On The List.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The Thing That Helps Me Do A Good Job Is That I Don't Feel The Need To Explain Everything About The World To My Reader. I'm Not Writing A History Text On The Four Corners. I'm Telling A Story That's Set There. The Setting Belongs In The Background For The Most Part, And It's Easy For Fantasy Authors To Forget That. That's One Of The Unfortunate Parts Of Tolkien's Legacy, In My Opinion. Read The First Hundred Pages Of The Fellowship Of The Ring And You Start To Get Pissed, "shut Up About The Shire's Museums! Isn't The World Supposed To Be In Peril Or Something?"

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The Best Lies About Me Are The Ones I Told.

I Can't Give You The Moon,” The Tinker Said. “she Doesn't Belong To Me. She Belongs Only To Herself.

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He Hesitated, Then Lifted His Head And Sniffed. “have You Been Drinking?” The Question Was More Curious Than Accusatory. “no,” Bast Said. The Innkeeper Raised An Eyebrow. “i’ve Been Tasting,” Bast Said, Emphasizing The Word. “tasting Comes Before Drinking.

If You Fall, You Fall," Elodin Shrugged. "sometimes Falling Teaches Us Things Too." In Dreams You Often Fall Before You Wake.

When Someone Tells You A Piece Of Their Life, They're Giving You A Gift, Not Granting You Your Due.

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

If You're An Actor, You Know People Are Going To Recognize You In A Restaurant. If You're A Rock Star, You Know People Are Going To Stop You On The Street And Ask You For Your Autograph. But As An Author? That's Not Something I Was Ready For.

Some Tropes Are Universal. Boy Meets Girl. Betrayal And Revenge. The Search To Discover A Hidden Truth.... A Mother's Love Isn't Cliché, It's Universal. These Things Are Archetypes. They're The Building Blocks Of Myth And Legend. They Are A Big Part About What It Means To Be Human.

Soft Fantasy Worlds Have A Much Looser Cause-and-effect Relationship. Alchemists Can Turn Lead Into Gold And Nobody Wonders About How It Will Impact The Currency System. Someone Waves A Wand And Turns An Elephant Into A Mouse And Nobody Worries About Conservation Of Mass.

I Don't Feel Beholden To Follow The Real World At All. The Important Thing Is To Know Why Things Turned Out The Way They Did. You Need To Understand The Reasons For Events, Or At Least Be Able To Make Reasonable Guesses About Them.

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

The Myth Stems From The Belief That Writing Is Some Mystical Process. That It's Magical. That It Abides By Its Own Set Of Rules Different From All Other Forms Of Work, Art, Or Play.but That's Bullshit. Plumbers Don't Get Plumber's Block. Teachers Don't Get Teacher's Block. Soccer Players Don't Get Soccer Block. What Makes Writing Different? Nothing. The Only Difference Is That Writers Feel They Have A Free Pass To Give Up When Writing Is Hard.

The Cost Of A Loaf Is A Simple Thing, And So A Loaf Is Often Sought, But Some Things Are Past Valuing: Laughter, Land, And Love Are Never Bought.

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.

Do You Know What It's Like To Run Spellcheck For Six Hours? It's Like A Party In Purgatory. A Party In Purgatory Where All They Have To Drink Is Sugar-free Kool-aid, And The Only Game To Play Is Monopoly, And None Of Your Friends Show Up.

You Want To Publish With A Publisher Because A Publisher Knows How To Publish A Book. And You Don't. You Really Don't.

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.

One Reason We Love Fiction Is Because Stories Have A Comforting Shape. They Provide A Resolution That's Lacking In Our Regular Lives.

Appearance Is A Type Of Power.

Don't Get Me Wrong, Magic Is Cool. But A Nervous Mother Singing To Her Child At Night While Something Moves Quietly Through The Dark Outside Her House? That's A Story. Handled Properly, It's More Dramatic Than Any Apocalypse Or Goblin Army Could Ever Be.

Performance And Music Are Inexorably Tied Together. And Hell, I'll Watch Brittany's Toxic Music Video All Day. But There's A Difference Between That And Listening To Leo Kottke Play Guitar. One Is Entertainment. The Other Is Music.

I Only Know One Story. But Oftentimes Small Pieces Seem To Be Stories Themselves.

I Need You To Breathe For Me.

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.

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.

Humor Is Important For Is Pacing. If Your Whole Book Is Just Drama Drama Drama, It's Going To Wear Down The Reader.

Remember This Son, If You Forget Everything Else. A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing. Words Have To Find A Man's Mind Before They Can Touch His Heart. And, Some Men's Minds Are Woeful Small Targets. Music Touches Their Hearts Directly, No Matter How Small Or Stubborn The Mind Of The Man Who Listens.

What Do They Do To Students At The University Who Eavesdrop?” Bast Asked Curiously. “i Haven’t The Slightest Idea. I Was Never Caught. I Think Making You Sit And Listen To The Rest Of My Story Should Be Punishment Enough.

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.

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

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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.

My Shrug Was So Nonchalant It Would Make A Cat Jealous

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.

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.

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

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.

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

You Have To Be A Bit Of A Liar To Tell A Story The Right Way.

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

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

It Was More Exciting When I Didn't Know I Had Permission.

...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.

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?

Auri," I Asked Slowly, "are You Joking With Me?" She Looked Up And Grinned. "yes I Am," She Said Proudly. "isn't It Wonderful?

We All Become What We Pretend To Be.

Too Much Truth Confuses The Facts. Too Much Honesty Makes You Sound Insincere.

The Truth Is That The World Is Full Of Dragons, And None Of Us Are As Powerful Or Cool As We’d Like To Be. And That Sucks. But When You’re Confronted With That Fact, You Can Either Crawl Into A Hole And Quit, Or You Can Get Out There, Take Off Your Shoes, And Bilbo It Up.

A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing.

This Is How Deeply Rooted Stories Are, Folks. We Crave Them Before We Can Walk, And We Start Telling Them Before We Can Talk.

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.

With His Eyes And Those Hands There Won't Be A Woman Safe In All The World When He Starts Hunting After The Ladies.' 'courting, Dear,' My Father Corrected Gently. 'semantics,' She Shrugged.

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.

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.

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.

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

I’d Heard He Had Started A Fistfight In One Of The Seedier Local Taverns Because Someone Had Insisted On Saying The Word “utilize” Instead Of “use.

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

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.

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

The Second Was Some Rather Bad Poetry, But It Was Short, And I Forced My Way Through By Gritting My Teeth And Occasionally Closing One Eye So As Not To Damage The Entirety Of My Brain.

There Are Times When The Mind Is Dealt Such A Blow It Hides Itself In Insanity. While This May Not Seem Beneficial, It Is. There Are Times When Reality Is Nothing But Pain, And To Escape That Pain The Mind Must Leave Reality Behind.

I Firmly Believe That We're All Good People, But Sometimes It's Hard To Understand How To Do Good.

There Are Few Things As Nauseating As Pure Obedience.

Only Priests And Fools Are Fearless And I've Never Been On The Best Of Terms With God.

A Long Stretch Of Road Will Teach You More About Yourself Than A Hundred Years Of Quiet Introspection

When The Hearthfire Turns To Blue, What To Do? What To Do? Run Outside, Run And Hide When His Eyes Are Black As Crow? Where To Go? Where To Go? Near And Far. Here They Are. See A Man Without A Face? Move Like Ghosts From Place To Place. Whats Their Plan? Whats Their Plan? Chandrian. Chandrian

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.

Practice Makes The Master.

This Is The Nature Of Love." Vashet Said. "to Attempt To Describe It Will Drive A Woman Mad. This Is What Keeps Poets Scribbling Endlessly Away. If One Could Pin It To Paper All Complete, The Others Would Lay Down Their Pens. But It Cannot Be Done.

My Bad Luck Got Tangled Up With My Bad Decisions, And I'm Paying For It.

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.

You Know, I Could Have Carried You.

I Have Had A Few Gentlemen Let Me Know They Find My Manly Beardiness Somewhat Alluring. Never Any Ladies Though.

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.

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.

Over His Own Dark Cealdish Beard. "nothing Like Your Marvelous Facebear.

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.

After An Awkward Pause, Bast Extended His Hand. Chronicler Hesitated For A Bare Moment Before Reaching Out Quickly, As If He Were Sticking His Hand Into A Fire. Nothing Happened, Both Of Them Seemed Moderately Surprised. "amazing, Isn't It?" Kvothe Addressed Them Bitingly. "five Fingers And Flesh With Blood Beneath. One Could Almost Believe That On The Other End Of That Hand Lay A Person Of Some Sort.

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.

I Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

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.

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

I'm Just Very Careful With My Words When I Write. Obsessively Careful. I'm The Sort Of Person Who Worries About The Difference Between "slim" And "slender."

So Stapes Conducted A Dinner For Just The Two Of Us, Then Informed Me Of A Dozen Small But Important Mistakes I Had Made. Setting Down A Dirty Utensil Was Considered Crude, For Example. That Meant It Was Perfectly Acceptable To Lick One's Knife Clean. In Fact, If You Didn't Want To Dirty Your Napkin It Was The Only Seemly Thing To Do.

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.

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.

I Swear I've Never Met A Man Who Has Your Knack For Lack Of Social Grace. If You Weren't Naturally Charming, Someone Would Have Stabbed You By Now.

I Was Just Wondering Why You're Here.

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.

Ambrose, Your Presence Is The Horseshit Frosting On The Horseshit Cake That Is The Admissions Interview Process.

I'd Like To Do An Anthology. Maybe A Collection Of Songs Set In My World, Or Based On My World. I Think That Would Be A Lot Of Fun.

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.

We Understand How Dangerous A Mask Can Be. We All Become What We Pretend To Be.

If You Are Going To Impose Your Will On The World, You Must Have Control Over What You Believe.

You Are Not Wise Enough To Fear Me As I Should Be Feared.

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

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.

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

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

Name Of The Wind

I Learned To Love The Feel Of Good Words.

Generally My Favorite Remarks Always Come From My Readers. I've Had People Say My Books Made Them Laugh, Or Cry, Or That It Frightened Them Late At Night.

We Are More Than The Parts That Form Us.

Name Of The Wind

When Someone Writes Something Dazzlingly Brilliant, People Want To Imitate It. The Result Is A Lot Of Less-than-brilliant Knock-offs. Elves, Dwarves, Goblin Army, Cursed Ring, Evil Sorcerer. Tolkien Did It. It Rocked. Let's Move On. Let's Do Something New.

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.

She Reached Up And Lay Her Hand On My Cheek. "you Have The Sweetest Face," She Said, Looking At Me Dreamily. "it's Like The Perfect Kitchen." I Fought Not To Smile. This Was The Delirium. She'd Fade In And Out Of It Before The Profound Exhaustion Dragged Her Down Into Unconsciousness. If You See Someone Spouting Nonsense To Themselves In An Alleyway In Tarbean, Odds Are They're Not Actually Crazy, Just A Sweet-eater Deranged By Too Much Denner. "a Kitchen?" "yes," She Said. "everything Matches And The Sugar Bowl Is Right Where It Should Be.

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.

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

I Walked Across The Polished Marble Floor And Sat On A Red Velvet Lounging Couch. I Idly Wondered How Exactly One Was Supposed To Lounge. I Couldn't Remember Ever Doing It Myself. After A Moment's Consideration, I Decided Lounging Was Probably Similar To Relaxing, But With More Money In Your Pocket.

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.

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

Barbarian That I Am, I Had Eaten All Of It. It Had Tasted Quite Nice Too. Still, I Took Note Of This Fact And Resigned Myself To Throw Away Half Of A Perfectly Good Cheese If It Was Set In Front Of Me. Such Is The Price Of Civilization.

I Like Your Manly Bravado," She Said. "do It Some More.

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.

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.

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.

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.

It's Not Prowess If You Watch 5 Hours Of Tv A Day. It's Just How You Choose To Spend Your Time.

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

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

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Robert Falcon Scott

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