Before I was reading science fiction, I read Hemingway. Farewell to Arms was my first adult novel that said not everything ends well. It was one of those times where reading has meant a great deal to me, in terms of my development - an insight came from that book.

I live for those rare and delicious moments when the words on the page take off and I am the bystander, watching as the tale shows me what will happen next.

How could anyone survive even a single day, if he didn't feel as if he was, in some little great way, needed?

To improve as a player you need to not only know how you plan to win, but ... how might your opponent disrupt your plan.

For honest insight into who you are, don't ask yourself what your priorities are for next week. Ask what your priorities were last week.

I can't point to a moment or incident that made me see that this business, this putting down words on paper, was what I would do for the rest of my lucid life. But apparently, that is my calling.

Occasionally, I'll dream I'm in the factory. That will help me write. Not creatively, but more like a prod. I don't want to go back there.