Your Job Isn't To Find These Ideas

There's One Novel, Cujo, That I Barely Remember Writing At All.

There's A Mr. Hyde For Every Happy Jekyll Face, A Dark Face On The Other Side Of The Mirror. The Brain Behind That Face Never Heard Of Razors, Prayers, Or The Logic Of The Universe. You Turn The Mirror Sideways And See Your Face Reflected With A Sinister Left-hand Twist, Half Mad And Half Sane.

Now Comes The Big Question: What Are You Going To Write About? And The Equally Big Answer: Anything You Damn Well Want. Anything At All .... As Long As You Tell The Truth.

They Walked Through The Rainy Dark Like Gaunt Ghosts, And Garraty Didn't Like To Look At Them. They Were The Walking Dead.

Memory Is The Basis Of Every Journey.