What It Boils Down To Is That

To The Gods Belong Power, And To Us The Work Of Our Hands.

When A Person Responds Emotionally To Intellectual Things, Or Emotionally Only To Traditional Emotional Things - I Find That An Interesting Break Between Myself And Some Other Writers And Fans.

A Tree Is Alive, And Thus It Is Always More Than You Can See. Roots To Leaves, Yes-those You Can, In Part, See. But It Is More-it Is The Lichens And Moss And Ferns That Grow On Its Bark, The Life Too Small To See That Lives Among Its Roots, A Community We Know Of, But Do Not Think On. It Is Every Fly And Bee And Beetle That Uses It For Shelter Or Food, Every Bird That Nests In Its Branches. Every One An Individual, And Yet Every One Part Of The Tree, And The Tree Part Of Every One.

Normal' Is A Dryer Setting.

Other People, Including Me, Have Written Books With Main Characters Who Were Old And Rich. Or Old And Brilliant. Old Sages, Old Wizards, Old Rich People.