Every Day Is Ordinary, Until It Isn't.

There Are Seasons Of Our Lives When Nothing Seems To Be Happening, When No Smoke Betrays A Burned Town Or Homestead And Few Tears Are Shed For The Newly Dead. I Have Learned Not To Trust Those Times, Because If The World Is At Peace Then It Means Someone Is Planning War.

At Risk Of Sounding Foully Pompous I Think That Writers' Groups Are Probably Very Useful At The Beginning Of A Writing Career.

‎our Ancestors Took This Land. They Took It And Made It And Held It. We Do Not Give Up What Our Ancestors Gave Us. They Came Across The Sea And They Fought Here, And They Built Here And They're Buried Here. This Is Our Land, Mixed With Our Blood, Strengthened With Our Bone. Ours!

I Sometimes Wonder What Would Have Happened If The First Book Had Not Sold... Doesn't Bear Thinking About, But I Suppose We'd Have Made It Work Somehow.

Only A Fool Wants War, But Once A War Starts Then It Cannot Be Fought Half-heartedly. It Cannot Even Be Fought With Regret, But Must Be Waged With A Savage Joy In Defeating The Enemy, And It Is That Savage Joy That Inspires Our Bards To Write Their Greatest Songs About Love And War.