You Know, I Could Have Carried You.

Sometimes I Go Outside After A Long Stretch Of Writing And I'm Surprised It's Not Raining. Or That It's Daylight. Or That It's Not The Middle Of Winter. I Don't Know If That Level Of Immersion Is Normal, But It's Now I Do Things. I Like It. It Works Well For Me.

Soft Fantasy Worlds Have A Much Looser Cause-and-effect Relationship. Alchemists Can Turn Lead Into Gold And Nobody Wonders About How It Will Impact The Currency System. Someone Waves A Wand And Turns An Elephant Into A Mouse And Nobody Worries About Conservation Of Mass.

I Want To Learn How To Pick Locks, Swordfight, Throw Pottery - It's All Research. It's Like The Curious Person's Version Of James Bond's License To Kill. I've Got A License To Learn.

I Believe It, Chronicler Found Himself Thinking. Before It Was Just A Story, But Now I Can Believe It. This Is The Face Of A Man Who Has Killed An Angel.

Everyone Knew What He Was Thinking. Certainly There Were Demons In The World. But They Were Like Tehlu’s Angels. They Were Like Heroes And Kings. They Belonged In Stories. They Belonged Out There. Taborlin The Great Called Up Fire And Lightning To Destroy Demons. Tehlu Broke Them In His Hands And Sent Them Howling Into The Nameless Void. Your Childhood Friend Didn’t Stomp One To Death On The Road To Baedn-bryt. It Was Ridiculous.