I Haven't Made Up My Mind About

What Kind Of World Permitted Such Terrible Injustice, Where Good Men Were Stripped Of Everything And Soulless Creatures Of Malice And Hatred Survived To Glory In Their Pointless Death?

I Remember One Winter, When I Was About Five Or Six, I Spent Three Days With Another Boy, Tracking A Bobcat That Had Been Sighted In Another County Fifty Miles Away, But Which I Was Sure Had Come Into Our Neighborhood.

Deception Is Mostly A Game We Play With Ourselves.

A World In Which Elves Exist And Magic Works Offers Greater Opportunities To Digress And Explore.

I Haven't Made Up My Mind About Doing Anymore Landover Books.