Do You Promise To Hate

I Never Thought About Doing A Sequel When I Was Actually Writing 'the Magicians.' I Only Ever Considered It A Standalone.

I'm Not One Of Your Knockabout, Knuckle-scarred, Internet-controversy-courting Book Critics. Occasionally I Stumble Into Controversy Accidentally, But Not Because I Enjoy It. It's Probably Just Because I'm A Weird Person.

More Than Fantasy Or Even Science Fiction, Ray Bradbury Wrote Horror, And Like So Many Great Horror Writers He Was Himself Utterly Without Fear, Of Anything. He Wasn't Afraid Of Looking Uncool - He Wasn't Scared To Openly Love Innocence, Or To Be Optimistic, Or To Write Sentimentally When He Felt That Way.

That’s What Death Did, It Treated You Like A Child, Like Everything You Had Ever Thought And Done And Cared About Was Just A Child’s Game, To Be Crumpled Up And Thrown Away When It Was Over. It Didn’t Matter. Death Didn’t Respect You. Death Thought You Were Bullshit, And It Wanted To Make Sure You Knew It.

I Think Every Fantasy Reader Secretly Believes They Know How Magic Works.