All of us recruits are equal in the eyes of the Army: low as you can go.

Nick shook his head and found to his surprise that he did have tears left after all. He wasn't surprised by a talking cat. The world was crumbling around him and anything could happen.

Being published is not a necessary validation or a path everyone wants to take with their work. Writing—and finishing—a novel is a great thing in itself, whether or not the book is published, or becomes widely-read or not.

The visions are fragmented and a dark cloud spreads like spilt ink across the pages of possible futures.

For all my longer works (i.e. the novels) I write chapter outlines so I can have the pleasure of departing from them later on.

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?

Fear and realisation of ignorance, strong medicines against stupid pride.