Writing is writing, and stories are stories. Perhaps the only true genres are fiction and nonfiction. And even there, who can be sure?
If you run away from trouble, it always follows.' Rather my impression, too. Though that never stopped me trying.
Never be afraid of a cliché, if it expresses what you wish to say.
Danger and anger are everywhere. Love is the rarity, the gem buried in the core of the mine, the outpost of God.
It's lovely. I hate it.
How massively the mountains stand, while low to the ground the sand blows. The sand blows on and on. And then there are no mountains, none at all, the sand has kissed and whispered them away. And still, the sand blows on.
I held out my book. It was precious to me, as were all the things I'd written; even where I despised their inadequacy there was not one I would disown. Each tore its way from my entrails. Each had shortened my life, killed me with its own special little death.
I was reading some complex books in my own youth-and no, I didnt always understand every word, let alone every concept-but I got the main thrust, which was like a lifeline in a fluctuating world.
The worst vulgarity is to avoid vulgarity solely on the grounds that it is vulgar.
The dictate of the light says: Know yourself and what you are. The dark replies, By all means, but then become afraid.
He sat by her, watching every gesture she made, as if he would paint her portrait afterward.
It was not apathy. It was an intelligent disinterest in those things that could have no bearing on one's existence.
Whatever the hell I am, I am Me.
I haven't changed. Something's happened to me, that's all.
I came up with a parallel Venice called Venus. set in a parallel Venice about 1701.
It gets cold in the desert at night, particularly up in the mountains; the stars hammer on the rock and strike frost.
I began to feel lighthearted. Don't ever do that; it tempts some dark and evil force abroad in the universe.
I just love writing. It's magical, it's somewhere else to go, it's somewhere much more dreadful, somewhere much more exciting. Somewhere I feel I belong, possibly more than in the so-called real world.
I love writers all across the board, but one who influenced me very directly at the beginning was Mary Renault.
I hardly ever work from a synopsis -- I find they act like chains.
We need the expressive arts, the ancient scribes, the storytellers, the priests. And that's where I put myself: as a storyteller. Not necessarily a high priestess, but certainly the storyteller. And I would love to be the storyteller of the tribe.
I am interested in most mythology. Celtic or Christian no more than anything else. I will admit to a pleasure and sense of hope in what I see as the basic teachings of Christ, stripped of the nonsense that has sometimes been accumulated about them and the embarrassing misunderstanding.
It was so useful to lie with the truth.
In the usual way I submitted manuscripts to publishers. This was not so much a feeling that I should be published as a wish to escape the feared and hated drudgery of "normal" work. In my twenties some of my work for children was published by Macmillan. However, I was twenty-seven before my adult novel, The Birthgrave, was taken by DAW Books in the USA. This enabled me finally to stop doing stupid and soul-killing jobs, and start working day and night as a professional writer. It felt like a rescue from damnation, and still does.
For me, everyone I write of is real. I have little true say in what they want, what they do or end up as (or in). Their acts appall, enchant, disgust or astound me. Their ends fill me with retributive glee, or break my heart. I can only take credit (if I can even take credit for that) in reporting the scenario. This is not a disclaimer. Just a fact.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: