It is said that scattered through Despair's domain are a multitude of tiny windows, hanging in the void. Each window looks out onto a different scene, being, in our world, a mirror. Sometimes you will look into a mirror and feel the eyes of Despair upon you, feel her hook catch and snag on your heart.

I want to write a play. I'd like to do an original musical. I should probably put together a poetry collection.

Stories you read when you're the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called.

Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives.

Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.

"Death's a capricious thing, innit?" "Yes. Yes, she is."

The ideas aren't that important. Really they aren't. Everyone's got an idea for a book, a movie, a story, a TV series.