Writing Is Hard Work; Its Also The

Some Loves Come Unbidden Like Winds From The Sea, And Others Grow From The Seeds Of Friendship.

One Likes To Think One Grows As A Writer As One Ages, Else All You Get Is An Old Young Writer. Beyond That Is The Changing Landscape Of The Universe And The Stories I Choose To Tell.

My Dear Dead Mother Wanted Me To Go Into An Honorable Trade, Like Grave Robbing. Would I Listen? No. Be An Assassin, Like Your Uncle Gustav, She Said. Would I Pay Heed? No. Apprentice To The Necromancer―

Dolgan: ’tis A Wise Thing To Know What Is Wanted, And Wiser Still To Know When ‘tis Achieved. Rhuagh: True. And Still Wiser To Know When It Is Unachievable, For Then Striving Is Folly.

If You're Going To Risk Dying, There's No Sense Doing It Wet, Cold And Hungry Unless Absolutely Necessary.