I turned my home state of Florida into the Land of Xanth.

Happy children do not seem to grow up to be writers.

When I started writing this, I found that I simply couldn't take fantasy seriously, so it became humorous, and continued from there.

At the time I wrote Xone I had never been on the Internet.

Here's a secret: fictive text doesn't necessarily flow easily. Most of the time it's more like cutting a highway through a mountain. You just have to keep working with your pick, chipping away at the rock, making slow progress.

Adults had the notion that juveniles needed to suffer. Only when they had suffered enough to wipe out most of their naturally joyous spirits and innocence were they staid enough to be considered mature. An adult was essentially a broken-down child.

Polishing: a useful lesson for the hopeful writer. You say your tormented prose doesn't read as well as mine? Neither does mine, at first!