Do Not Lie To The Scholar.

Lee Saw The Fireball And Head Through The Roar In His Ears Hester Saying, "that's The Last Of 'em Lee." He Said, Or Thought, "those Poor Men Didn't Have To Come To This, Nor Did We." She Said, "we Held 'em Off. We Held Out. We're A-helping Lyra." Then She Was Pressing Her Little Proud Broken Self Against His Face, As Close As She Could Get, And Then They Died.

I'm For Open-mindedness And Tolerance. I'm Against Any Form Of Fanaticism, Fundamentalism Or Zealotry, And This Certainty Of 'we Have The Truth.' The Truth Is Far Too Large And Complex. Nobody Has The Truth.

If You Want To Write Anything That Works, You Have To Go With The Grain Of Your Talent, Not Against It. If Your Talent Is Inert And Sullen In The Face Of Business Or Politics...but Takes Fire At The Thought Of Ghosts And Vampires And Witches And Demons Then Feed The Flames, Feed The Flames.

There's A Hunger For Stories In All Of Us, Adults Too. We Need Stories So Much That We're Even Willing To Read Bad Books To Get Them, If The Good Books Won't Supply Them.

She Was Riding A Bear! And The Aurora Was Swaying Above Them In Golden Arcs And Loops, And All Around Was The Bitter Arctic Cold And The Immense Silence Of The North.