Fennel Hudson

The greatest gifts are those that say, __ know you_.

Be patient, persistent and above all, believe.

What compels me to write now is the same as all those years ago. It is the love of writing and storytelling, driven by a desire to escape.

Where the writing takes place doesn__ matter to a publisher, but it matters a great deal to the author.

When sitting down to write a letter, it always pays to calm one__ mood, collect one__ thoughts, and have a plan.

I__ pretty sure I__ the only author who intends to take the longest possible route to a destination that will always be over the next hill.

I am happiest sitting against a tree, with my notebook or sketchpad on my knee, capturing the moment.

A pen that has clocked up a million words, a lifetime__ memories, is worth more than the centrepiece in a jeweller__ window.

Writers who copy or plagiarise others are dreaming in another man__ sleep.

Writing ink is the magic that allows nothing to become something. It catches the fleeting idea and seeks out the glances of those who wish to see. Even a random ink splat will mean something to someone.

I write into an old book that smells of dust and whose pages are floppy with damp. Sometimes the ink splodges onto the paper, other times it will barely leave the nib of my pen.

Confront the page that taunts you with its whiteness. Face your enemy and fill it with words. You are bigger and stronger than a piece of paper.

Putting pen to paper without first deciding the route and pace at which to scribe is like setting off on a bicycle without first checking the tyres.

Rarely will I write indoors, even if it means getting wet during rain, or my hands numb in winter.

The pen that was once a gift has come to represent all that I hope to achieve.

Never interrupt an author when he or she is __n the zone_, else you__l understand the real meaning of __riter__ nib_.

Being an author is to have a toe in the creative pool and a foot in the vat of commerce.

Look back, but never look down.