Background Image

...

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.

-Patrick Rothfuss

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

There Are Times When

Patrick Rothfuss

...

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.

Views: 69664

Topic

More From Patrick Rothfuss

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.

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.

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.

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

Congratulations

Name Of The Wind

She Taught Me I Should Never Do Anything In Private I Did Not Want Talked About In Public, And Cautioned Me Not To Talk In My Sleep.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Small Facts Lead To Great Knowing.

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

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.

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.

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

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

Name Of The Wind

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

...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.

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

I Know There's A Lot Of Talk About Self-publishing Right Now. Everyone's Giddy With The Possibilities. And I'll Admit That It Looks Good On Paper: Sell Your Books Directly And Keep A Bigger Chunk Of The Profit For Yourself. No Rejection Letters. No Hassle With Agents. Sounds Good, Right?

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

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

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 You Love Something, You Have To Make Sure It Loves You Back, Or You'll Bring About No End Of Trouble Chasing It.

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

All Stories Are True.

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

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.

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 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.”

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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'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.

Each Book Needs A Good Beginning And A Good Ending. People Get Pissed Off When You Don't Close Things Off Properly At The End.

Thieves, Heretics, And Whores

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

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.

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.

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

My 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.

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

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

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.

Each Woman Is Like An Instrument, Waiting To Be Learned, Loved, And Finely Played, To Have At Last Her Own True Music Made.

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.

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

I Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

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

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.

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

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.

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

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

Frequently, An Author Gets "orphaned" At A Publisher. What This Means Is That An Editor Buys Their Book, Then Ends Up Getting Fired, Promoted, Or Transferred To A Different Job Somewhere Else. It Sucks For The Author Because Suddenly The Person Who Liked Your Book Enough To Buy It Isn't Around To Help You Edit And Promote It.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

The Desire For Knowledge Shapes A Man.

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.

Stories Only Happen To People Who Can Tell Them.

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

I Was Reluctant To Talk About My Kids On The Blog. I Kept Telling Myself, "people Aren't Coming Here For Stories About Your Kids. They Want To Hear About The Upcoming Books, Writing Advice, Conventions..."

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

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

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.

I'm Not A Stereotypical Professor Type. I Don't Smoke A Pipe And Wear A Tweedy Jacket. I'm More Like A Student Who Stayed At The University For So Long That They Gave Him A Job To Keep Him Out Of Trouble.

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

Fantasy Stories

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.

Now It's Virtually Impossible To Write A Game That Successfully Provides Challenge And Frustration, And That's A Shame. We Are Going To Lose Something That Makes Scientists, That Makes Doers, That Makes Hard-minded, Witty, Clever People, And I Worry That Those People Aren't Being Made These Days.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

My Shrug Was So Nonchalant It Would Make A Cat Jealous

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

All The Truth In The World Is Held In Stories.

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

Helping Someone

We All Become What We Pretend To Be.

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 Learned To Love The Feel Of Good Words.

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.

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

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

The Best Lies About Me Are The Ones I Told.

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

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

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

It 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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

I'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.

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.

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.

Humor Is Hard, Hard, Hard. And If You Fail With Humor, You Don't Fail Halfway. You Drop The Ball Humor-wise And Everyone Notices.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

I 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.

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

We Are More Than The Parts That Form Us.

Name Of The Wind

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

You Can Have An Interesting Story About A Person Living An Interesting Life. And If It's Done Well, That Is Just As Engaging As The End Of The World. A Million People Dying - We Can't Process. One Person, We Can Process.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

That Was Another Lesson I Had Learned Perhaps Too Well: People Meant Pain.

Bones Mend. Regret Stays With You Forever.

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.

85% Of Modern Music Doesn't Have A Damn Thing To Do With Music. It Has To Do With Looking Good. Name Me One Woman On The Top Ten Right Now Who Isn't Absolutely Smoking Hot. You Think That's A Coincidence?

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

Trending Author

Elfriede Jelinek

Lady Bird Johnson

Richard Schickel

Category