If They Asked How I Died Tell

If They Asked How I Died Tell Them: Still Angry.

It Was The Single Forgiving Phrase In The Syntax Of Weaponry I Had Strapped About Me. The Rest Were Unequivocal Sentences Of Death.

I've Been Accused Countless Times Of Writing Gloomy Futures. But To Me, The Texture Of My Sci-fi Just Feels Like An Extrapolation Of Current Trends.

For Me, Any Fiction Of Nobles And Swords Necessarily Has To Be A Story Of Corruption, Injustice And Savagely Violent Conflict - Because Any Other Treatment Is Going To Have All The Heft And Realistic Honesty Of A Bedtime Fairy Tale For Five Year Olds.

The Way I See It, Anyone Who's Proud Of Their Country Is Either A Thug Or Just Hasn't Read Enough History Yet.