Orson Scott Card
Orson Scott Card
Orson Scott Card is an American novelist, critic, public speaker, essayist and columnist. He writes in several genres but is known best for science fiction. His novel Ender's Gameand its sequel Speaker for the Deadboth won Hugo and Nebula Awards, making Card the only author to win both science fiction's top U.S. prizes in consecutive years. A feature film adaptation of Ender's Game, which Card co-produced, was released in late October 2013 in Europe and on November 1, 2013, in...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth24 August 1951
CountryUnited States of America
Writing sessions can last an hour or sixteen hours, depending on how it's going.
I hope I am remembered by my children as a good father.
Early to bed and early to rise," Mazer intoned, "makes a man stupid and blind in the eyes.
The opposite of the happy ending is not actually the sad ending-the sad ending is sometimes the happy ending. The opposite of the happy ending is actually the unsatisfying ending.
You’re not a human being until you value something more than the life of your body. And the greater the thing you live and die for the greater you are.
Fiction, because it is not about somebody who actually lived in the real world, always has the possibility of being about oneself.
Short stories are designed to deliver their impact in as few pages as possible. A tremendous amount is left out, and a good short story writer learns to include only the most essential information.
In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him.
I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves.
Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don't see any.
Music isn't just a pleasure, a transient satisfaction. It's a need, a deep hunger; and when the music is right, it's joy. Love. A foretaste of heaven. A comfort in grief. Is it too much to think that perhaps God speaks to us sometimes through music? How, then, could I be so ungrateful as to refuse the message?
She worked her toes into the sand, feeling the tiny delicious pain of the friction of tiny chips of silicon against the tender flesh between her toes. That's life. It hurts, it's dirty, and it feels very, very good.
When I write fiction, I create characters whose views are not my own, and I allow them to be eloquent in defense of their, not my, views.
If pigs could vote, the man with the slop bucket would be elected swineherd every time, no matter how much slaughtering he did on the side.