I Guess I'm Destined To

When Someone Writes Something Dazzlingly Brilliant, People Want To Imitate It. The Result Is A Lot Of Less-than-brilliant Knock-offs. Elves, Dwarves, Goblin Army, Cursed Ring, Evil Sorcerer. Tolkien Did It. It Rocked. Let's Move On. Let's Do Something New.

Too Much Truth Confuses The Facts. Too Much Honesty Makes You Sound Insincere.

Just A Little. Just The First Faint Breath Of Love... It Wasn’t Dramatic, Like Some Bolt Of Lightning With A Crack Of Thunder Following. It Was More Like When Flint Strikes Steel And The Spark Fades Almost Too Fast For You To See. But Still, You Know It’s There, Down Where You Can’t See, Kindling.

I’d Heard You Were Dead.” "i Heard You Wear A Red Lace Corset,” I Said Matter-of-factly. “but I Don’t Believe Every Bit Of Nonsense That Gets Rumored About.

I Think Authors Are Just Realizing There's No Real Reason To Feel Limited To A Narrow Set Of Genre Rules In Their Writing. There's No Reason A Mystery Novel Can't Have Fantastic Elements In It. Similarly, There's No Reason Why Your Epic Fantasy Series Can't Have Elements Of A Mystery.