There are as many stories to be told as there are people to tell them about; only the mean-spirited would consider there to be a competition at all.

I want to be magic. I want to touch the heart of the world and make it smile. I want to be a friend of elves and live in a tree. Or under a hill. I want to marry a moonbeam and hear the stars sing. I don't want to pretend at magic anymore. I want to be magic.

The thing with pretending you're in a good mood is that sometimes you can actually trick yourself into feeling better.

There's never an easy route to the things that matter.

One expected growth, change; without it, the world was less, the well of inspiration dried up, the muses fled.

You walk around with a negative attitude and you're just naturally going to bring trouble and hard times down on yourself.

I'm a writer and this is what I do no matter what name we put to it. Year by year, the world is turning into a darker and stranger place than any of us could want. This is the only thing I do that has potential to shine a little further than my immediate surroundings. For me, each story is a little candle held up to the dark of night, trying to illuminate the hope for a better world where we all respect and care for each other.