Hi Neil, i'm writing a story and I'm feeling very exposed, like if anyone could read through the words directly in to my soul, that all my secrets and fears are there for everyone to see it. Have you ever felt like this? How did you deal with it?
2) I wrote more stories. And discovered after a while that the ones where I opened a door into my soul were the ones people liked the most.
“Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you—even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition. Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world. So none of this is happening. Such things could not occur. Never a word of it is literally true.”—Neil Gaiman (via whitesleep)
Why would the butler do it? Nobody wants to force themselves into unemployment.
Well, his career as a butler would be over, but a new career would begin. After all, with Lord Smethhurst dead, there would be nobody who would be able to point out that while Blenkinsop had indeed made over the title to the Winery to the butler in question, the Vicar and his wife still owned the little Egyptian statue of mysterious provenance, nor would anyone know about the tattoo of an owl on the left shoulder of Miss Mabel Crane, the chanteuse.