Writing Is A Job: You Must Show

He Breathed Once More, Holding The Air In His Chest, As If It Were Not Air But Something More--a Sweet Taste Of Freedom, Of All Cares Lifted, Everything Over And Done.

If Asked To Name The Worst Moment Of His Life, Michael Fisher Wouldn't Have Hesitated To Give His Answer: It Was When The Lights Went Out.

I Was Very Much A Child Of The Cold War.

You Learn To Write By Reading, And My Experiences And Tastes As A Reader Are Pretty Wide.

Rust, Corrosion, Wind, Rain. The Nibbling Teeth Of Mice And The Acrid Droppings Of Insects And The Devouring Jaws Of Years. The Was Of Nature Upon Machines, Of The Planet's Chaotic Forces Upon The Works Of Humankind. The Energy That Man Had Pulled From The Earth Was Being Inexorably Pulled Back Into It, Sucked Like Water Down A Drain. Before Long, If It Hadn't Happened Already, Not A Single High-tension Pole Would Be Left Standing On The Earth. Mankind Had Built A World That Would Take A Hundred Years To Die. A Century For The Last Light To Go Out.