The Sadness You Feel Is Not Your

Here She Was, A Women Who Could Bolt-load A Crossbow In Under A Second, Put Half A Dozen Long Arrows In The Air In Fewer Than Five, Blade A Target Dead Through The Sweet Spot At Six Meters, On The Run, On An Off Day; And Yet Knitting A Pair Of Baby Booties Seemed Completely Beyond Her Power.

She Remembered No One At All. She Remembered One Day Thinking: I Am Alone. There Is No I But I. She Lived In The Dark. She Taught Herself To Walk In The Light, Though It Was Not Easy.

There's An Outline For Each Of The Books That I Adhere To Pretty Closely, But I'm Not Averse To Taking It In A New Direction, As Long As I Can Get It Back To Where I Need It To Go.

Even On The Darkest Night, My Friend, Life Will Have Its Way.

One Thing That Worried Me Was How Writers Get Categorized And So They End Up Having To Write The Same Kind Of Book Again And Again. That Is Fine If It Is What You Want To Do, But I Would Rather Be Locked In The Trunk Of My Car With A Weasel Than Write The Same Book Every Three Years Until I Die.