Sadness Is Very Close To Hate.

This Was The Time In Her Life That She Fell Upon Books As The Only Door Out Of Her Cell. They Became Half Her World.

I Promised To Tell You How One Falls In Love.

... The Desert, Where There Is The Communal Book Of Moonlight. We Were Among The Rumour Of Wells. In The Palace Of Winds.

Once I've Discovered The Story, I Might Restructure It, Maybe Move Things Around, Set Up A Clue That Something Is Going To Happen Later, But That Happens Much Later In An Editorial Capacity.

What Is Interesting And Important Happens Mostly In Secret, In Places Where There Is No Power. Nothing Much Of Lasting Value Ever Happens At The Head Table, Held Together By A Familiar Rhetoric. Those Who Already Have Power Continue To Glide Along The Familiar Rut They Have Made For Themselves.