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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.

-Patrick Rothfuss

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I Grew Up Reading

Patrick Rothfuss

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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.

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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.

With Slow Care Rather Than Stealth We Must Approach The Subject Of A Certain Woman. Her Wildness Is Of Such Degree, I Fear Approaching Her Too Quickly Even In A Story. Should I Move Recklessly, I Might Startle Even The Idea Of Her Into Sudden Flight.

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

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.

Small Facts Lead To Great Knowing.

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

...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.

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.

Metal Rusts, Music Lasts Forever.

If There Is One Thing I Will Not Abide It Is The Folly Of A Willful Pride.

I Learned To Love The Feel Of Good Words.

You Never Do Things The Easy Way, Do You?" She Said. "there's An Easy Way?" I Asked.

Stories Only Happen To People Who Can Tell Them.

If I Could Sum It Up In 50 Words, I Wouldn't Have Needed To Write A Whole Novel About It.

Over The Last Month I Had Pulled A Woman From A Blazing Inferno. I Had Called Fire And Lighting Down On Assassins And Escaped To Safety. I Had Even Killed Something That Could Have Been Either A Dragon Or A Demon, Depending On Your Point Of View. But There In That Room Was The First Time I Actually Felt Like Any Sort Of Hero. If You Are Looking For A Reason For The Man I Would Eventually Become, If You Are Looking For A Beginning, Look There.

Appearance Is A Type Of Power.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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 Need You To Breathe For Me.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

I've Got A Solid Grounding In History, Sociology, Anthropology, Philosophy, Etc Etc. That Means I Actually Have A Good Idea About How Societies Change And Evolve. I Know How A Lot Of Them Have Actually Functioned Through The Years. I Can Put Together A Culture That's Cool And Different, While Still Being Logically Consistent, So That It Feels Real. So Many Fantasy Worlds Are Either Implausible, Cookie-cutter, Or Both. Mine Aren't.

My Favourite Member Of The Beatles Is Lennon. He Might Have Been Crazy. But He's My Kind Of Crazy.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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?

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

I Think The Tendency To Over-explain And Over Describe Is One Of The Most Common Failings In Fantasy. It's An Unfortunate Piece Of Tolkien's Legacy. Don't Get Me Wrong, Tolkien Was A Great Worldbuilder, But He Got A Little Caught Up Describing His World At Times, At The Expense Of The Overall Story.

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

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.

It's The Questions We Can't Answer That Teach Us The Most. They Teach Us How To Think.

Fantasy Stories

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

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.

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

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

The Boy Grows Upward, But The Girl Grows Up.

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.

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

I Have, Of Course, Been Called Many Other Things. Most Of Them Uncouth, Although Very Few Were Unearned

Name Of The Wind

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.

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.

There Are Few Things As Nauseating As Pure Obedience.

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.

My Only Real Daydreamy Casting Over The Years Has Been Natalie Portman For Denna. She's An Amazing Actress, And Denna Is Going To Be One Of The Hardest Characters To Pull Off.

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.

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

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.

It's My Opinion That If You're Trying To Tell A Realistic Story That Centers Around Realistic Characters, You Can't Help But Touch On Important Issues. Those Issues Are What Make Us Human.

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

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

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.

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.

In My Opinion There Are Two Basic Questions That Any Writer Tries To Answer. "what Is?" Is The Question Non-fiction Asks. "what If?" Is The Question Fiction Asks. That's The Question I'm More Interested In.

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.

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

Helping Someone

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.

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

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.

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

...it Is Better To Have A Mouthful Of Poison Than A Secret Of The Heart.

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.

My Thought Is, If You're A Book Lover, You're Going To Enjoy Winning A Book Even If It's Not Something You'd Ordinarily Pick Up On Your Own. It's A Chance To Expand Your Horizons A Little.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Thieves, Heretics, And Whores

Then I Played The Song That Hides In The Center Of Me. That Wordless Music That Moves Through The Secret Places In My Heart. I Played It Carefully, Strumming It Slow And Low Into The Dark Stillness Of The Night. I Would Like To Say It Is A Happy Song, That It Is Sweet And Bright, But It Is Not.

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

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.

You're Sure Your New Roommate Won't Be Like The Last One Who Wore Tinfoil Socks And Had A Tendency To Occasionally Urinate In The Refrigerator. You're Sure You'll Pass Math 106 This Time Around. You're Determined To Actually Join Some Clubs This Year And Not Just Sit Around In Your Dorm Eating Spray Cheese From A Can And Watching Youtube Videos About Cats.

I Want To Learn How To Pick Locks, Swordfight, Throw Pottery - It's All Research. It's Like The Curious Person's Version Of James Bond's License To Kill. I've Got A License To Learn.

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.

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.

You Need To Realize That Most Writing Rules Aren't Laws, They're Rules Of Thumb.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

The Good Thing About Working On The Books For 14 Years Before They Hit The Shelves Is That I Worked Out Most Of The Kinks Long Before They Were Published.

I Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

It's The Questions We Can't Answer That Teach Us The Most. They Teach Us How To Think. If You Give A Man An Answer, All He Gains Is A Little Fact. But Give Him A Question And He'll Look For His Own Answers.

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

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.

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.

Sometimes I Go Outside After A Long Stretch Of Writing And I'm Surprised It's Not Raining. Or That It's Daylight. Or That It's Not The Middle Of Winter. I Don't Know If That Level Of Immersion Is Normal, But It's Now I Do Things. I Like It. It Works Well For Me.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

Just Handle The Books Gently And You’ll Get Along Fine.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

There Can Be Many Opinions On A Thing, But There Is Only One Truth." Vashet Smiled Lazily. "and If The Pursuit Of The Truth Was My Goal, That Would Concern Me." She Gave A Long Yawn, Stretching Like A Happy Cat. "instead I Will Focus On The Joy In My Heart, [...}

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.

There Is A Difference Between Something Being Essential, And It Being Necessary. If You Take Your Favorite Book And Strip It Down To What Is Merely Essential To Tell The Story, It Would Be Butchery. The End Result Would Horrify You. Essential Is The Bones Of The Story, But The Soul Lives Somewhere Else.

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.

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.

I Have No Balance. My Life Is A Hot Mess.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Truth Is A Troublesome Motherfucker Unless It's Handled Properly

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

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!

My Mom Once Lost Track Of Me At The Zoo And When She Found Me I Was Lecturing A Man About The Difference Between Dromedary And Bactrian Camels. I Was About 3 1/2.

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.

I Decided To Dub The Room With The Good Chairs My Lutery. Or Perhaps My Performatory. I Would Need A While To Come Up With Something Suitably Pretentious.

I Want A Magical Horse That Fits In My Pocket," Wil Said. "and A Ring Of Red Amber That Gives Me Power Over Demons. And An Endless Supply Of Cake.

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.

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

Simmon Pushed His Hair Out Of His Eyes, Laughing Boyishly. "you Can't Argue Your Way Out Of This One! She's Obviously Stupid For You. And You're Just Plain Stupid, So It's A Great Match.

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.

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

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

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 Was Just Wondering Why You're Here.

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

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.

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.

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

We Are More Than The Parts That Form Us.

Name Of The Wind

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

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.

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.

Reading Is Professionally Important For Me To Keep Tuned In To What's Being Written In My Genre, Let's Not Lie. But That's Not The Reason I Read. I Read For My Own Emotional And Mental Health. If I Stopped Reading, I'd Probably Just Die.

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 Smiled,"deoch, My Heart Is Made Of Stronger Stuff Than Glass. When She Strikes She'll Find It Strong As Iron-bound Brass, Or Gold And Adamant Together Mixed. Don't Think I Am Unaware, Some Startled Deer To Stand Transfixed By Hunter's Horns. It's She Who Should Take Care, For When She Strikes, My Heart Will Make A Sound So Beautiful And Bright That It Can't Help But Bring Her Back To Me In Winged Light.

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

I Have A Blog Where I Keep In Touch With My Fans. I Write About Things That Are Important To Me. Sometimes On There I'll Just Tell A Little Story About The Things That Happen In My Everyday Life. People Seem To Enjoy Them Well Enough.

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

How Odd To Watch A Mortal Kindle / Then To Dwindle Day By Day / Knowing Their Bright Souls Are Tinder / And The Wind Will Have Its Way

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

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.

Bones Mend. Regret Stays With You Forever.

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.

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

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

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 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.

When You Read A Fantasy Novel Part Of The Fun Is Getting To Explore A New World. Everyone Knows That. But I Believe The Same Is True About Characters. You Can Explore Interesting People In The Same Way That You Explore A Town Or A Culture.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

All Stories Are True.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

The Best Lies About Me Are The Ones I Told.

And If Hollywood Has Taught Us Anything, It's That Cool Props And Special Effects Are Not Enough. Story Comes First. Everything Depends On Story.

A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing.

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

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

It's Like Everyone Tells A Story About Themselves Inside Their Own Head. Always. All The Time. That Story Makes You What You Are. We Build Ourselves Out Of That Story.

It's One Thing To Not Want An Evil-sorcerer Type Villain In Your Story, But It's Another Thing To Avoid Having Any Sort Of Antagonist At All. A Story Without An Antagonist Gets Weird Pretty Quick.

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.

Everyone Knew What He Was Thinking. Certainly There Were Demons In The World. But They Were Like Tehlu’s Angels. They Were Like Heroes And Kings. They Belonged In Stories. They Belonged Out There. Taborlin The Great Called Up Fire And Lightning To Destroy Demons. Tehlu Broke Them In His Hands And Sent Them Howling Into The Nameless Void. Your Childhood Friend Didn’t Stomp One To Death On The Road To Baedn-bryt. It Was Ridiculous.

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

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

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.

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.

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

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.

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

There Is Some Conflict Between Religion And Science In My World, But That's Nothing New. Science, At Its Root, Is A Rational Discipline. Religion, On The Other Hand, Is Fundamentally Trans-rational. Both Of Them Attempt To Solve Problems, But Since Their Methodology Is Vastly Different, They Can't Help But Come Into Conflict.

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