You Learn To Write By Writing, And

Of The Two, I Would Think Of My Work As Closer To Science Fiction Than Fantasy.

The Other Mammoths Were As Protective Of The Dying As They Were Of Newborns, And They Gathered Around Tying To Make The Fallen One Get Up. When All Was Over, They Buried The Dead Ancestor Under Piles Of Dirt, Grass, Leaves, Or Snow. Mammoths Were Even Known To Bury Other Dead Animals, Including Humans.

Life Sometimes Gets In The Way Of Writing.

She Loved Him, More Than She Could Ever Find Words For, But This Love He Felt For Her Was Not Quite The Same. It Wasn't So Much Stronger, As More Demanding, More Insistent. As Though He Feared He Would Lose That Which He Had Finally Won.

But When Did You See Her, Talk To Me? When Did You See Her Go Into The Cave? Why Did You Threaten To Strike A Spirit? You Still Don't Understand, Do You? You Acknowledged Her, Broud, She Has Beaten You. You Did Everything You Could To Her, You Even Cursed Her. She's Dead, And Still She Won. She Was A Woman, And She Had More Courage Than You, Broud, More Determination, More Self-control. She Was More Man Than You Are. Ayla Should Have Been The Son Of My Mate.