You May Have Heard Of Me.

Is There A Connection Between Language And Magic? Yes. Ten Times Yes. So Much Yes That It Almost Doesn't Bear Talking About. It's As Pointless That Arguing That The Sun Is Hot.

I Have Heard What Poets Write About Women. They Rhyme And Rhapsodize And Lie. I Have Watched Sailors On The Shore Stare Mutely At The Slow-rolling Swell Of The Sea. I Have Watched Old Soldiers With Hearts Like Leather Grow Teary-eyed At Their King's Colors Stretched Against The Wind. Listen To Me: These Men Know Nothing Of Love. You Will Not Find It In The Words Of Poets Or The Longing Eyes Of Sailors. If You Want To Know Of Love, Look To A Trouper's Hands As He Makes His Music. A Trouper Knows.

The Good Thing About Working On The Books For 14 Years Before They Hit The Shelves Is That I Worked Out Most Of The Kinks Long Before They Were Published.

Do Not Mistake Me For My Mask. You See Light Dappling On The Water And Forget The Deep, Cold Dark Beneath.

A Lot Of New Writers Assume You Have To Know The Where The Story Is Going And That It Flows Out As Molten Gold. But Really, Sometimes You Think You Are Going To One Place, But Then You Decide That Is Dumb Idea. Then You Go Somewhere Else And It Is A Worse Idea. But Then You Switch Again And You Might Have A Beautiful Accident.