David Eddings

The unfortunate thing about working for yourself is that you have the worst boss in the world. I work every day of the year except at Christmas, when I work a half day.

I hesitate to predict whether this theory is true. But if the general opinion of Mankind is optimistic then we’re in for a period of extreme popularity for science fiction.

I get up at an unholy hour in the morning my work day is completed by the time the sun rises. I have a slightly bad back which has made an enormous contribution to American literature.

I wrote a novel for my degree, and I’m very happy I didn’t submit that to a publisher. I sympathize with my professors who had to read it.

When they ran out of cadre men they gave me my very own platoon and said, ‘Here are 63 men, try to keep as many of them alive as you possibly can.’ That was one of the more harrowing experiences of my life.

This is terrible, when a writer is bored by his own work, but it was a real bomb and had reached the point where I couldn’t even stand to look at it any more.

If the general opinion is pessimistic, fantasy is going to hold its own.

Reed College required a thesis for a Bachelor’s degree. Normally a Bachelor’s is sort of like being stamped ‘Prime US Beef.’ They just walk you through, hand out the diplomas and you fill in your name later on.

I’ve fallen back on this periodically, although I must say that getting out of the grocery business ranked right up there with getting out of the army as one of the happier experiences of my life.

Call it my little gesture toward social conscience, but I like to think I’m teaching a certain number of people to read. Now that sounds pretentious!

I taught in a small teacher’s college for three or four years, at which point all the administrators got a pay raise and the teaching faculty didn’t.

All social workers want is to get everyone involved in a programme. Because a programme provides full employment for three generations of social workers. And they mess up.