I've Killed Enough Of The World's Trees.

...book-buyers Aren't Attracted, By And Large, By The Literary Merits Of A Novel: Book-buyers Want A Good Story...something That Will First Fascinate Them, Then Pull Them In And Keep Them Turning The Pages.

And If There Are No Cars Or Planes, And If No One’s Uncle John Is Out In The Wood Lot West Of Town Banging Away At A Quail Or Pheasant; If The Only Sound Is The Slow Beat Of Your Own Heart, You Can Hear Another Sound, And That Is The Sound Of Life Winding Down To Its Cyclic Close, Waiting For The First Winter Snow To Perform Last Rites.

When I Was A Kid I Believed Everything I Was Told, Everything I Read, And Every Dispatch Sent Out By My Own Overheated Imagination. This Made For More Than A Few Sleepless Nights, But It Also Filled The World I Lived In With Colors And Textures I Would Not Have Traded For A Lifetime Of Restful Nights.

But In High School The Business Of Irrevocable Choices Began. Doors Slipped Shut With A Faint Locking Click That Was Only Heared Clearly In The Dreams Of Later Years.

I Think The Best Writers Are Voracious Readers Who Pick Up The Cadences And The Feel Of Narration Through A Number Of Different Books. And You Begin By Maybe Copying The Style Of Writers That Really Knocked You Out.