creating tales of people who do not exist in places that. The world always seems brighter when youve just made something that wasnt there before. Behind every Chesterton sentence there was someone painting with words, and it seemed to me that at the end of any particularly good sentence or any perfectly -put paradox, you could hear the author, somewhere behind the scenes, giggling with delight. George to kill the dragon. Theres no way anybody would leave their Twitter feeds for long enough to pull out a foam sword or a hockey stick. Neil Gaiman They were kissing. We live in a world in which the only utopian visions arrive in commercial breaks: magical visions of an impossibly hospitable world, peopled by bright-eyed attractive men, women, children.
I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it all up as I went along, they just read what. At the best of times his face was unreadable.
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In my worlds people died. Well, not owned owned. Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end. They dont teach you what to say to someone whos dying. It has its own melody, it has its own words. Not like he would sell the forest to someone else, or put a wall all around it It's not hard to own something.
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