Ive tried to write deep and serious. I spent years working to write a story that would make my writing group cry.

New rule: every fantasy author who doesn't treat horses like tireless hairy motorcycles automatically gets a Hugo.

That worked great! Thank you so much. What next?" "I don't know. I didn't expect you to live through it." "Oh.

I like big books and I cannot lie. You other readers can’t deny That when a kid walks in with The Name of the Wind Like a hardbound brick of win. Story bling. Wanna swipe that thing Cause you see that boy is speeding Right through the book he’s reading. I’m hooked and I can’t stop pleading. Wanna curl up with that for ages, All thousand pages. Reviewers tried to warn me. But with that plot you hooked Me like Bradley. Ooh, crack that fat spine. You know I wanna make you mine. This book is stella ’cause it ain’t some quick novella.

If I'm making myself laugh, I figure most of my readers will be amused as well.

That is a trial I must face," Veka said. "No, that is a multiheaded snake thing, Jig snapped.

Torches," Porak ordered. "This is dumb," Jig grumbled as one of the others handed out torches. "Why not run ahead and warn any intruders that we're coming? Maybe we should sing, too, in case they're blind.