Stephenie Meyer Can’t Write Worth A Darn.

Everyone Needs A Hobby, He Said. And Everyone Needs A Miracle Or Two, Just To Prove Life Is More Than Just One Long Trudge From The Cradle To The Grave.

The First Thing Was To Get Down To Addie Richardson's Henhouse, And That Was A Goodish Way, Four Or Five Miles. She Found Herself Wondering If The Lord Was Going To Send Her An Eagle To Fly Her Those Four Miles, Or Send Elijah In His Fiery Chariot To Give Her A Lift. Blasphemy," She Told Herself Complacently. "the Lord Provides Strength, Not Taxicabs.

Good Description Is A Learned Skill, One Of The Prime Reasons Why You Cannot Succeed Unless You Read A Lot And Write A Lot. It’s Not Just A Question Of How-to, You See; It’s Also A Question Of How Much To. Reading Will Help You Answer How Much, And Only Reams Of Writing Will Help You With The How. You Can Learn Only By Doing.

I Believe The First Draft Of A Book — Even A Long One — Should Take No More Than Three Months…any Longer And — For Me, At Least — The Story Begins To Take On An Odd Foreign Feel, Like A Dispatch From The Romanian Department Of Public Affairs, Or Something Broadcast On High-band Shortwave Duiring A Period Of Severe Sunspot Activity.

The Scholar's Greatest Weakness: Calling Procrastination Research.