The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.

A hand fought best when it made a fist.

What mortal knew the way their fate line would run?

It can be hard to write a skillfully entertaining fiction, but a great book wants to be more, and wants more from us.

But if you couldn't do everything, did that mean you did nothing?

Fantasy is, at its best, the purest access to storytelling that we have. It universalizes a tale, it evokes wonder and timeless narrative power, it touches upon inner journeys, it illuminates our collective and individual pasts, throws a focus beam on the present day, and presages the dangers and promises of the future.

A hard truth: that courage can be without meaning or impact, need not be rewarded, or even known. The world has not been made in that way. Perhaps, however, within the self there might come a resonance, the awareness of having done something difficult, of having done . . . something.