As Long As A Film Stays Unmade, The Book Is Entirely Yours, It Belongs To The Writer. As Soon As You Make It Into A Film, Suddenly More People See It Than Have Ever Read The Book.
I Still Have Some Of My Old University Essays, And I Do Still Have My Drawing Book From Primary Year Seven.
"you Like Music, Mr. Gurgeh?" Hamin Asked, Leaning Over To The Man. Gurgeh Nodded. "well, A Little Does No Harm."
I've Always Loved Scotland, And I'm Not A Huge Fan Of Big Cities, To Be Honest. I Like Them To Dip Into For A Bit, But I'm Not Sure I Would Want To Live In One Again.
Science Fiction Has Its Own History, Its Own Legacy Of What's Been Done, What's Been Superseded, What's So Much Part Of The Furniture It's Practically Part Of The Fabric Now, What's Become No More Than A Joke... And So On. It's Just Plain Foolish, As Well As Comically Arrogant, To Ignore All This, To Fail To Do The Most Basic Research.
Mr Blawke Always Reminded Me Of A Heron; I'm Not Sure Why. Something To Do With A Sense Of Rapacious Stillness, Perhaps, And Also The Aura Of One Who Knows Time Is On His Side.
"don't You Have A Religion?" Dorolow Asked Horza. "yes," He Replied, Not Taking His Eyes Away From The Screen On The Wall Above The End Of The Main Mess-room Table. "my Survival."
...[changers] Were A Threat To Identity, A Challenge To The Individualism Even Of Those They Were Never Likely To Impersonate. It Had Nothing To Do With Souls Or Physical Or Spiritual Possession; It Was, As The Idirans Well Understood, The Behavouristic Copying Of Another Which Revolted. Individuality, The Thing Which Most Humans Held More Precious Than Anything Else About Themselves, Was Somehow Cheapened By The Ease With Which A Changer Could Ignore It As A Limitation And Use It As A Disguise.
The Combination Of Modern Ordnance And Outdated Tactics Had, As Usual, Created Enormous Casualties On Both Sides.
You Get So Caught Up In What You're Writing - Action Sequences Tend To Do That More Than Anything Else Because You're Living It, And Feeling For Your Characters.
