Category: Jack Henry Kraven

Writing is like a blind man building a stone house with a limited amount of space and time. Brick after brick, row after row, feeling his way round and round. Turning stones into walls, rooms and towers. Relentlessly searching for doorways and windows, frequently replacing a stone or two here and there for a tighter fit. Often taking out entire walls that just feel out of place and sometimes, sadly, removing entire rickety rooms.