I Write In The Novel's Afterword That

When I Reached Fort Binjemma, For Example, Where My Grandfather Was Stationed For A While, The Whole Victorian Fort Was Decaying. Barbed Wire Surrounded It, Spray Paint On The Ancient Walls Claimed It As Private Property, And The Moat Where My Grandfather And His Men Had Grown Crops - In Desperation As The Siege's Hunger Bit - Was Completely Overgrown With Bushes And Trees.

I'm A Much Better Writer For Being A Father.

However Long The Moon Disappears, Someday It Must Shine Again.

We Must Constantly Dare Ourselves In The Small Things, Until Courage Becomes A Habit Of Mind That Will Serve Us When We Are Unexpectedly Tested.

Life Is Savagely Unfair. It Ignores Our Deep-seated Convictions And Places A Disproportionate Emphasis On The Decisions We Make In Split Seconds.