Life Is Brutal That Way ... The

She Had Always Felt That The Essence Of Human Experience Lay Not Primarily In The Peak Experiences, The Wedding Days And Triumphs Which Stood Out In The Memory Like Dates Circled In Red On Old Calendars, But, Rather, In The Unself-conscious Flow Of Little Things - The Weekend Afternoon With Each Member Of The Family Engaged In His Or Her Own Pursuit, Their Crossings And Connections Casual, Dialogues Imminently Forgettable, But The Sum Of Such Hours Creating A Synergy Which Was Important And Eternal.

When I Get About Five Readers I Can Rub Together In One Genre, I Leave That Genre And Go Somewhere Else. And This Is Due To A Vow That I Made Myself When I Started Writing - That If I Had Any Success At All, I Would Not Be Bound To One Form Of Writing. That I Would Write What Moves Me. The Only Way I Can See Me Surviving And Doing More Than One Book Is To Present The Readers With A Dan Simmons Novel, With Whatever Tropes And Protocols From Whatever Genre I Want To Borrow Them. If That Builds A Dan Simmons Readership, Well Then, Okay. Otherwise, Forget About It. I'd Rather Drive A Truck.

Human Beings Have Only That Confusing Mass Of Chemically Driven Neurological Storage To Rely On. They're All Subjective And Emotion-tinged. How Can They Trust Any Of Their Memories?

It Is A Mystery, And To Tell The Truth, I Am Intrigued By Mysteries Even If This Is To Be My Last Week Of Enjoying Them. I Would Welcome Some Glimmer Of Understanding But, Failing That, Working On The Puzzle Will Suffice.

In Such Seconds Of Decision Entire Futures Are Made.