J.M. Robison is a fantasy author who chronicles the events which drive heroes to their knees, turn princesses into war queens, and unhinge history to bring magic back to life. She joined the U.S. Army at 17 (Mom and Dad had to sign giving her permission since she was under-age) and became Military Police, all just so she could learn how to write battle scenes realistically and experience different cultures to add variety to her world building and characters (to date she has visited Italy, Germany, Romania, Bulgaria, Afghanistan, and Kuwait.)
She is an introvert who grew up playing games with herself and turned those games into novels as soon as she learned the alphabet. Married to an incredible man, they hope for children soon but for now tolerate two cats who contribute by bringing home birds for dinner. She would love to be a hermit (like, legit live in the mountains hunting, gathering, and building lean-tos) but until then she's learned to crochet everything from blue stuffed unicorns to dragons, frequently escapes into Skyrim, walks around barefoot, and hates social media. Her husband gave her a camera and green screen and she's been plaguing youtube and Facebook with super dorky book promotion videos ever since.
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The Last Wizard Series
coming this spring!
WRITINGS THAT INSPIRE ME
“The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil to live,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.
“Good timber does not grow at ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, in rain and snow,
in trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold council with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.”
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
"Tried once? Failed once? No matter. Try again. Fail again.. Fail better." - Samual Beckett
“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”
(Alexander Pope, “Essay on Man,” Epistle II, line 135.)