Bones Mend. Regret Stays With You Forever.

Then I Felt Something Inside Me Break And Music Began To Pour Out Into The Quiet. My Fingers Danced; Intricate And Quick They Spun Something Gossamer And Tremulous Into The Circle Of Light Our Fire Had Made. The Music Moved Like A Spiderweb Stirred By A Gentle Breath, It Changed Like A Leaf Twisting As It Falls To The Ground, And It Felt Like Three Years Waterside In Tarbean, With A Hollowness Inside You And Hands That Ached From The Bitter Cold.

Is There A Connection Between Language And Magic? Yes. Ten Times Yes. So Much Yes That It Almost Doesn't Bear Talking About. It's As Pointless That Arguing That The Sun Is Hot.

Hours Later The Blank Sheet Still Stared At Me, And I Beat My Fist Against The Desk In Fury And Fustration, Striking It So Hard My Hand Bled. That Is How Heavy A Secret Can Become. It Can Make Blood Flow Easier Than Ink.

How About This?' Simmon Asked Me. "which Is Worse, Stealing A Pie Or Killing Ambrose?" I Gave It A Moment's Hard Thought. "a Meat Pie, Or A Fruit Pie?

After Two Years Of Sending Out Query Letters And Failing To Get An Agent, I Made Friends With An Author, Who Was Nice Enough To Introduce Me To His Agent. That Got My Foot In The Door.