Jean M. Auel Famous Quotes
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Ayla, what am I doing wrong?" he asked, standing in front of her, dripping. "It's not you. I'm the one who's doingit wrong." "You're not doing anything wrong." "Yes I am. I've been trying all day to encourage you, but you don't understand Clan gestures.
My fiction is reviewed by the mainstream press, by science fiction periodicals, romance magazines, small press publications and various other journals, including some usually devoted to archaeological and other science material.
I started writing to please myself, a story I would like to read, and that is still true.
Again Creb grunted. It was the usual noncommittal comment used by men when responding to a woman. It carried only enough meaning to indicate the woman had been understood, without acknowledging too much significance in what she said.
In a world so empty of human life, there was comfort in the thought that an invisible realm of spirits was aware of their existence, cared about their actions, and perhaps directed their steps. Even a stern or inimical spirit who cared enough to demand certain actions of appeasement was better than the heartless disregard of a harsh and indifferent world, in which their lives were entirely in their own hands, with no one else to turn to in time of need, not even in their thoughts.
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.
Serenio had been right, his love was too much for most people to bear. His anger, let loose, could not be contained until it had run its course either. Growing up, he had once wreaked such havoc with righteous anger that he had caused someone serious injury. All his emotions were too powerful. Even his mother had felt forced to put a distance between them, and she had watched with silent sympathy when friends backed off because he clung too fiercely, loved too hard, demanded too much of them.
But why should they blame her? They should blame the men who won't let her alone,
Illness and accidents were mysterious manifestations of the war of the spirits, fought on the battleground of the body.
Now the Spirit of the Cave Lion wants me to leave." She looked up at the tall man beside her. "Do you think we'll ever come back?" "No," he said. There was a hollow ring to his voice. He was looking in the small cave, but he was seeing another place and another time. "Even if you go back to the same place, it's not the same.
No, my publisher has always done the marketing.
If you want to fall in love, you can't hold everything in. You have to open up, take that risk. You'll be hurt sometimes, but if you don't, you'll never be happy. The one you find may not be the kind of woman you expected to fall in love with, but it wont matter, you'll love her for exactly what she is.
From the beginning, when I first got an idea for a story and wondered if I could write it, it has always been the story that has driven me.
I had an idea for a story about a young woman who was living with people who were different, not just superficially different - such as hair colour, or eye colour, or skin colour - but different in some significant way.
You weren't being punished. You were waiting for me.
They stopped for a moment to watch the evening sky transform itself in a show of dazzling radiance as gold transmuted into shades of vermilion that waned into shimmering purple, then darkened to deep blue as the first glittering sky fires appeared. Soon the sooty black night became a backdrop to the multitude of blazing lights that filled the summer sky, with a concentrated accumulation wending its way like a path across the vault above.
was dark and no more inviting
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.
The idea led me into the research, which continues to give me more ideas for the story.
I'm just writing a story that I want to read.
Though my books are written from a historical perspective, I have goon so far back that I am in the realm of prehistorical speculation rather than simple historical fact to weave my stories around.
I think of my books as mainstream and that's were most people who read them look for them in book stores.
When you are alone, you have all the time in the world to practice whistling like a bird. When there is no one in the world you can turn to, a horse or .even a lion may give you companionship. When you don't know if there is anyone in the world like you, you seek contact with something living however you can
You are strong, self-reliant, entirely able to take care of yourself and of me ... You are fearless, courageous; you saved my life, nursed me back to health, hunted for my food, provided for my comfort. You don't need me. Yet you make me want to protect you, watch over you, make sure no harm comes to you. I could live with you all my life and never really know you; you have depths it would take many lifetimes to explore. You are wise and ancient ... and as fresh and young as a woman as ... And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love you more than life itself.
Roe Deer, when your spirit returns to the Great Earth Mother, thank Her for giving us one of your kind, that we may eat, Jondalar said quietly.
I had tears coming out of my eyes. And it was the characters that got me there.
figure of the First.
nightmares of earthquakes, and
Mog-ur has been spending all day and half the night in the place of the spirits. It must be a ceremony. While Ayla was gone, he wouldn't go near it; now he hardly ever comes out. When he does, he's so absentminded he forgets to eat. Sometimes he forgets to eat while he's eating.
I can't tell you any more than any other writer can tell you why they write, and I don't know what my influences are.
I don't know, Jondalar. Maybe you haven't found the right woman. Maybe the Mother has someone special for you. She doesn't make many like you. You are really more than most women could bear. If all your love were concentrated on one, it could overwhelm her, if she wasn't one to whom the Mother gave equal gifts.
It took some time to gather the research and develop it into the storyline, and to finally finish an origin myth poem that I had been working on for twenty years.
I could write historical fiction, or science fiction, or a mystery but since I find it fascinating to research the clues of some little know period and develop a story based on that, I will probably continue to do it.
They stared at each other, wanting each other, drawn to each other, but their silent shout of love went unheard in the roar of misunderstanding, and the clatter of culturally ingrained beliefs.
She lifted the drooping muzzle with both hands ... It was a special embrace saved for special occasions.
Suddenly, just as the rain began to fall in earnest, he sat down and howled.
Of the two, I would think of my work as closer to Science Fiction than Fantasy.
Aside from sales, the letters from readers have been primarily positive.
Nothing works all the time
Ayla, I looked for you all my life and didn't know I was looking. You are everything I ever wanted, everything I ever dreamed of in a woman, and more. You are a fascinating enigma, a paradox. You are totally honest, open; you hide nothing: yet you are the most mysterious woman I've ever met.
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.
Once I got over feeling sick in the morning, I've been feeling good," Levela said. "Vigorous and strong. Although, lately, I get tired easily. I want to sleep late and take naps in the day, and sometimes if I stand for a long time, my back hurts." "Sounds about right, wouldn't you say," Velima said, smiling at her daughter. "Just the way you are supposed to feel.
It's harder to kill people. The empathy is so much stronger that the mind must invent new reasons. But, if we can somehow link it to our own survival, the mind will make the devious twists and turns necessary to rationalize it. We're very good at that. But it changes people. They learn to hate. Your wolf doesn't need to hate what he kills. It would be easier if we could kill without compunction, like your wolf does, but then, we wouldn't be human.
South Holding, was the acknowledged leader of the Twenty-ninth Cave, but Summer Camp and
I really fell in love with Africa.
I'd done so many things I wasn't supposed to do that by then I was ready to try any idea that came to me.
Countered. I suspect the story was made up by a woman who had a
Art was as much in the activity as in the results. Works of art were not just the finished product, but the thought, the action, the process that created them.
Ayla should have been the son of my mate. Brun to Broud, Clan of the Cave Bear.
Great Mother!I can't believe it!Now I understand."(Mamut)
"I do not understand," Ayla said
Each book has been different and has been challenging in its own way to write.
A person could resist popular belief and stand up for personal principles, and though there may be consequences, not everything would necessarily be lost. In fact, something important might be gained, if only within oneself.
As Creb looked at the peaceful, trusting face of the strange girl in his lap, he felt a deep love flowering in his soul for her. He couldn't have loved her more if she were his own.