Metal Rusts, Music Lasts Forever.

That Was Another Lesson I Had Learned Perhaps Too Well: People Meant Pain.

You Can't Write Good Characters If You Can't Imagine What It's Like Being In Another Person's Skin. And If You Can Imagine That, You Naturally Want Other People's Lives To Be Better. You Want To Make That Happen.

Sometimes I Go Outside After A Long Stretch Of Writing And I'm Surprised It's Not Raining. Or That It's Daylight. Or That It's Not The Middle Of Winter. I Don't Know If That Level Of Immersion Is Normal, But It's Now I Do Things. I Like It. It Works Well For Me.

Elodin Looked At Me. "what A Remarkably Honest Threat," He Said. "normally They're Much More Growlish And Gristly Than That." "gristly?" I Asked, Emphasizing The 't.' "don't You Mean Grisly?" "both," He Said. "usually There's A Lot Of, 'i'll Break Your Knees. I'll Break Your Neck.'" He Shrugged. "makes Me Think Of Gristle, Like When You're Boning A Chicken.

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.