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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.

-Patrick Rothfuss

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Re'lar Kvothe," He Said

Patrick Rothfuss

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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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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

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.

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

Name Of The Wind

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.

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

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'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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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?"

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

The Best Lies About Me Are The Ones I Told.

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.

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

Helping Someone

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 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.

Congratulations. That Was The Stupidest Thing I've Ever Seen. Ever.

Congratulations

Name Of The Wind

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

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'm Not A Speed Writer. I Write Slowly And Revise Obsessively. The End Result Tends To Be Good. That's Where My Strength Is.

Coming To Grips With Being A Bit Of A Celebrity. That's Not Anything I Ever Expected To Have To Deal With In My Life.

Reading Aloud Sounds Like A Good Idea, But Honestly, It Doesn't Work Very Well. Good Dialogue In A Book Doesn't Actually Bear Much Resemblance To Real-life Dialogue. For Example, If You've Ever Seen A Word-for-word Transcript Of People Talking, It Doesn't Read Off The Page Very Well. The Trick Is To Make It *seem* Like It's Being Spoken, Not To Make It Speakable.

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

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

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.

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.

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.

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.

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.

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.

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

I Loved College. I Wish I Was Still Taking Classes Instead Of Teaching Them.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

However, While Being Able To Think About Two Things At The Same Time Is A Terribly Convenient, The Training It Takes To Get There Is Frustrating At Best, And At Other Times Rather Disturbing. I Remember One Time I Looked For The Stone For Almost An Hour Before I Consented To Ask The Other Half Of Me Where I'd Hidden It, Only To Find I Hadn't Hidden The Stone At All. I Had Merely Been Waiting To See How Long I Would Look Before Giving Up. Have You Ever Been Annoyed And Amused With Yourself At The Same Time? It's An Interesting Feeling, To Say The Very Least.

Old Cob Tucked Away His Bowl Of Stew With The Predatory Efficency Of A Lifetime Bachelor.

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

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.

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

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.

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, [...}

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

Name Of The Wind

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

I Always Read. You Know How Sharks Have To Keep Swimming Or They Die? I’m Like That. If I Stop Reading, I Die.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

I'm A Firm Supporter Of The Word Polyamory. But That One Is Close To My Heart.

Elodin Looked At Me. "what A Remarkably Honest Threat," He Said. "normally They're Much More Growlish And Gristly Than That." "gristly?" I Asked, Emphasizing The 't.' "don't You Mean Grisly?" "both," He Said. "usually There's A Lot Of, 'i'll Break Your Knees. I'll Break Your Neck.'" He Shrugged. "makes Me Think Of Gristle, Like When You're Boning A Chicken.

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.

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

There Are Few Things As Nauseating As Pure Obedience.

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'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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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!

Truth Is A Troublesome Motherfucker Unless It's Handled Properly

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.

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

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.

I Think One Of The Biggest Mistakes You Can Make As A Writer Is To Follow Your Initial [writing] Plan Too Stringently. A Story Needs Room To Grow And Evolve.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

...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 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.

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

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.

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

That's All That Really Matters In The End. Stories.

The Desire For Knowledge Shapes A Man.

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.

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.

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

Now The Truth Is, Writing Is A Great Way To Deal With A Lot Of Difficult Emotional Issues. It Can Be Very Therapeutic, But That's Best Done In Your Journal, Or On Your Blog If You're An Exhibitionist. Trying To Put A Bunch Of *specific* Stuff From Your Personal Life Into Your Story Usually Just Isn't Appropriate Unless You're Writing A Memoir Or A Personal Essay Or Something Of The Sort.

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

Keeping Your Mouth Shut

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.

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.

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.

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.

You Know, I Could Have Carried You.

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 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.

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.

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

You May Have Heard Of Me.

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.

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

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

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Do Not Mistake Me For My Mask. You See Light Dappling On The Water And Forget The Deep, Cold Dark Beneath.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Fantasy Stories

The Boy Grows Upward, But The Girl Grows Up.

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.

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

All Stories Are True.

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.

Appearance Is A Type Of Power.

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.

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.

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

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.

Practice Makes The Master.

I Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

There Is A Sort Of Camaraderie That Rarely Exists Except Between Men Who Have Fought The Same Enemies And Know The Same Women.

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

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

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.

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.

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

All Stories Are True,” Skarpi Said. “but This One Really Happened, If That’s What You Mean.” He Took Another Slow Drink, Then Smiled Again, His Bright Eyes Dancing. “more Or Less. You Have To Be A Bit Of A Liar To Tell A Story The Right Way. Too Much Truth Confuses The Facts. Too Much Honesty Makes You Sound Insincere.

All The Truth In The World Is Held In Stories.

How About This?' Simmon Asked Me. "which Is Worse, Stealing A Pie Or Killing Ambrose?" I Gave It A Moment's Hard Thought. "a Meat Pie, Or A Fruit Pie?

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.

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.

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.

Stories Only Happen To People Who Can Tell Them.

Someone's Parents Have Been Singing Entirely The Wrong Sort Of Songs.

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