Showing posts with label orson scott card. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orson scott card. Show all posts

Monday, July 15, 2013

the well written - orson scott card

I carry the seeds of death within me and plant them wherever I linger
long enough to love.  - Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead

By Edel Rodriguez

Monday, February 11, 2013

on writing - short stories

Short fiction seems more targeted - hand grenades of ideas, if
you will. When they work, they hit, they explode, and you never
forget them. Long fiction feels more like atmosphere: it's a lot
smokier and less defined.   - Paolo Bacigalupi

When well told, a story captured the subtle movement of change.
If a novel was a map of a country, a story was the bright silver
pin that marked the crossroads.   - Ann Patchett

The short story form allows evocation, suggestion, implication.
Its potency often lies in what it does not say.   - Isobelle Carmody

By Janice Wu



















Thursday, November 29, 2012

on reading - orson scott card

I think that most of us, anyway, read these stories that we know
are not "true" because we're hungry for another kind of truth: the
mythic truth about human nature in general, the particular truth
about those life-communities that define our own identity, and the
most specific truth of all: our own self-story. Fiction, because it is
not about someone who lived in the real world, always has the
possibility of being about oneself.

- Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game

By Kristin Kest

Monday, June 11, 2012

the well written - orson scott card

And following that train of thought led him back to Earth, back to the quiet hours in the center of the clear water ringed by a bowl of tree-covered hills.  That is the Earth, he thought.  Not a globe of thousands of kilometers around, but a forest with a shining lake, a house hidden at the crest of the hill, high in the trees, a grassy slope leading upward from the water, fish leaping and birds strafing to take the bugs that lived at the border between water and sky. 

Earth was the constant noise of crickets and winds and birds.  And the voice of one girl, who spoke to him out of his far-off childhood.  The same voice that had once protected him from terror.  The same voice that he would do anything to keep alive…

- Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game

By Joy Suke