#fiction

From: The Crown of Telus She opened her eyes, saw the crown sitting on her bedside table, and wished that it was all a dream. The crown of Trist was nothing special. It had no gemstones, no gold or silver filigree; instead it was simple, a metal circlet with four points and some inlay around a scratched and dented band. “It’s a working man’s crown,” she remembered her father holding the symbol of power out to her when she younger. “See the inlay? Three moons, one for each of our gods, over an oak which represents the mighty forests of the north, a shock of wheat for the Plainsmen to the south, a ship for the Gheltes to the west, and a hashap flower for the spice in the east. Nothing more. We don’t need anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes. A working man’s crown. Nothing fancy or bejeweled, a symbol of the power that guides the land and cares for its people. This was going to be the first day she wore it as queen. ↗

— William Laws

#fantasy-scifi #magic #swords-and-sorcery #dreams

I landed a job with Roger Corman. The job was to write the English dialogue for a Russian science fiction picture. I didn't speak any Russian. He didn't care whether I could understand what they were saying; he wanted me to make up dialogue. ↗

— Francis Ford Coppola

#care #corman #could #dialogue #english

Today's youth cannot miss something they have never known, but I fear that there are no current fictional characters whose impact and influence will last with such abiding affection into their 'sore and yellow' as this splendid man's creations have in mine! ↗

— Peter Cushing

#cannot #characters #creations #current #fear

Two hours of writing fiction leaves this writer completely drained. For those two hours he has been in a different place with totally different people. ↗

— Roald Dahl

#completely #different #different people #different place #drained

There is a real connection between Philosopy and fiction. ↗

— Ken Follet

#connection #fiction #real

Something cascaded lightly through me—a gentling, a suffused glow. If love could be morphed into a physical element, this would be it. It was strength and yet it was vulnerability. It was all-encompassing and yet it was freedom. It was a wall of protection. It was wings of trust and faith. It was Gabriel Ross Sullivan, answering the questions I couldn’t ask. Not that everything would be okay, but that everything in his power would be done, and we’d face whatever outcomes there were together. ↗

— Linnea Sinclair

#faith

I maintain that cultural sensitivity should be replaced by cultural awareness. Awareness implies research, consideration, thought, and judiciousness.... Sensitivity denies equal access to language. It segregates and censors based on the background of the writer rather than the content of the story. No society can embrace cultural sensitivity and retain full capacity for freedom of speech. ↗

— Scott M. Roberts

#sci-fi #science-fiction #writing #equality

We have escapist fiction, so why not escapist biography? ↗

— John Kenneth Galbraith

#escapist #fiction #why #why not

But I now think what I was doing, in a completely unconscious way, was getting off the turf where my husband and I might be rivals. We were both working in fiction... so I look back and I see that I consciously vacated the contested ground. ↗

— Helen Garner

#both #completely #consciously #contested #doing

I drift like a cloud, Across these venerable eastern lands, A journey of unfathomable distances, An endless scroll of experiences... Lady Zhejiang here we must part, For the next province awaits my embrace. Sad wanderer, once you conquer the East, Where do you go? ↗

— Tom Carter

#china #chinese #collecting-poetic-lines #hangzhou #ji-ju