You May Have Heard Of Me.

Frequently, An Author Gets "orphaned" At A Publisher. What This Means Is That An Editor Buys Their Book, Then Ends Up Getting Fired, Promoted, Or Transferred To A Different Job Somewhere Else. It Sucks For The Author Because Suddenly The Person Who Liked Your Book Enough To Buy It Isn't Around To Help You Edit And Promote It.

The Thing That Helps Me Do A Good Job Is That I Don't Feel The Need To Explain Everything About The World To My Reader. I'm Not Writing A History Text On The Four Corners. I'm Telling A Story That's Set There. The Setting Belongs In The Background For The Most Part, And It's Easy For Fantasy Authors To Forget That. That's One Of The Unfortunate Parts Of Tolkien's Legacy, In My Opinion. Read The First Hundred Pages Of The Fellowship Of The Ring And You Start To Get Pissed, "shut Up About The Shire's Museums! Isn't The World Supposed To Be In Peril Or Something?"

Elodin Looked At Me. "what A Remarkably Honest Threat," He Said. "normally They're Much More Growlish And Gristly Than That." "gristly?" I Asked, Emphasizing The 't.' "don't You Mean Grisly?" "both," He Said. "usually There's A Lot Of, 'i'll Break Your Knees. I'll Break Your Neck.'" He Shrugged. "makes Me Think Of Gristle, Like When You're Boning A Chicken.

You Can't Write Good Characters If You Can't Imagine What It's Like Being In Another Person's Skin. And If You Can Imagine That, You Naturally Want Other People's Lives To Be Better. You Want To Make That Happen.

Elodin Proved A Difficult Man To Find. He Had An Office In Hollows, But Never Seemed To Use It. When I Visited Ledgers And Lists, I Discovered He Only Taught One Class: Unlikely Maths. However, This Was Less Than Helpful In Tracking Him Down, As According To The Ledger, The Time Of The Class Was 'now' And The Location Was 'everywhere.