Thank God He Killed The Guy. Oh,

The Vampires Have Always Been Metaphors For Me. They've Always Been Vehicles Through Which I Can Express Things I Have Felt Very, Very Deeply.

The Old Gods Will Bring About Vengeance Not So Much Because They Exist But Because I Once Honored Them.

As They Die, The Ones We Love, We Lose Our Witnesses, Our Watchers, Those Who Know And Understand The Tiny Little Meaningless Patterns, Those Words Drawn In Water With A Stick. And There Is Nothing Left But The Endless Flow.

That Process By Which You Become A Writer Is A Pretty Lonely One. We Don't Have A Group Apprenticeship Like A Violinist Might Training For An Orchestra.

The Truth Is, Laughter Always Sounds More Perfect Than Weeping. Laughter Flows In A Violent Riff And Is Effortlessly Melodic. Weeping Is Often Fought, Choked, Half Strangled, Or Surrendered To With Humiliation.