You Are Not Wise Enough To Fear

Fantasy Is A Genre That Allows Me To Create Anything I Want. That, In Turn, Allows Me To Explore Any Sort Of Idea I'm Curious About. I Love It Because Fantasy Is A Genre That Asks, "what If...?" That's My Favorite Question.

I’d Heard You Were Dead.” "i Heard You Wear A Red Lace Corset,” I Said Matter-of-factly. “but I Don’t Believe Every Bit Of Nonsense That Gets Rumored About.

What I'd Love More Than Anything Is For Worldbuilders To Continue To Grow And Become Entangled In All The Different Corners Of The Geek Community.

There Can Be Many Opinions On A Thing, But There Is Only One Truth." Vashet Smiled Lazily. "and If The Pursuit Of The Truth Was My Goal, That Would Concern Me." She Gave A Long Yawn, Stretching Like A Happy Cat. "instead I Will Focus On The Joy In My Heart, [...}

She Reached Up And Lay Her Hand On My Cheek. "you Have The Sweetest Face," She Said, Looking At Me Dreamily. "it's Like The Perfect Kitchen." I Fought Not To Smile. This Was The Delirium. She'd Fade In And Out Of It Before The Profound Exhaustion Dragged Her Down Into Unconsciousness. If You See Someone Spouting Nonsense To Themselves In An Alleyway In Tarbean, Odds Are They're Not Actually Crazy, Just A Sweet-eater Deranged By Too Much Denner. "a Kitchen?" "yes," She Said. "everything Matches And The Sugar Bowl Is Right Where It Should Be.