Be Careful Of Monsters With Teeth

It Is Not Merely Enough To Love Literature If One Wishes To Spend One's Life As A Writer. It Is A Dangerous Undertaking On The Most Primitive Level. For, It Seems To Me, The Act Of Writing With Serious Intent Involves Enormous Personal Risk. It Entails The Ongoing Courage For Self-discovery. It Means One Will Walk Forever On The Tightrope, With Each New Step Presenting The Possiblity Of Learning A Truth About Oneself That Is Too Terrible To Bear.

Get A Day Job, Make Your Money From That, And Write To Please Yourself.

Everyone Is Entitled To An *informed* Opinion.

When You're A Writer, You Have To Have The Passion And The Skill And The Craft. It's Not Just Enough To Have The Passion. You've Gotta Have All Three.

The Passion For Revenge Should Never Blind You To The Pragmatics Of The Situation. There Are Some People Who Are So Blighted By Their Past, So Warped By Experience And The Pull Of That Silken Cord, That They Never Free Themselves Of The Shadows That Live In The Time Machine... And If There Is A Kind Thought Due Them, It May Be Found Contained In The Words Of The Late Gerald Kersh, Who Wrote:"... There Are Men Whom One Hates Until A Certain Moment When One Sees, Through A Chink In Their Armour, The Writhing Of Something Nailed Down And In Torment.