Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.

Here, far from our homes, we will be forgotten by our gods.

The real world has no obligation to be convincing, so it throws up some very weird moments sometimes.

Bod shrugged. "So?" he said. "It's only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.

They believe themselves Lucifer's equals, Cain, all these pitiful little gnats. But there is only one that we have ever owned to be our superior. There is but one greater than us, and to him... to him we no longer speak.

One word after another. That's the only way that novels get written and, short of elves coming in the night and turning your jumbled notes into Chapter Nine, it's the only way to do it. So keep on keeping on. Write another word and then another.