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Graham Joyce Biography

Graham Joyce (22 October 1954 – 9 September 2014) was a British writer of speculative fiction and the recipient of numerous awards, including the O Henry Award and the World Fantasy Award, for both his novels and short stories.

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Graham Joyce Quotes

Rationally speaking, blaming one's behavior on alcohol or drugs is like blaming the ladder by which you descended into a pit, or the staircase that took you down to a cellar, for what you found there.

Alcohol, Behavior, Drug, Like, Pits, Took

Why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?

Earth, Inspire, Jobs, Simply

That's emails for ya: sometimes they're like an arrow that hits so deep in the target, you can't pull it out.

Arrow, Arrows, Email, Hits, Like, Target

But there are times in life when a door opens and you are offered a glimpse of the light on the water, and you know that if you don't take it, that door slams shut, and maybe forever. Maybe you fool yourself into thinking that you had a choice at all; maybe you were always going to say yes. Maybe refusing was no more a choice than is holding your breath. You were always going to breathe. You were always going to say yes.

Breath, Doors, Light, Slams, Thinking

The overintellectualization of surrealism can be a bromide. A dream interpreted is a deflated dream.

Deflated, Dream, Overintellectualization, Surreal, Surrealism

Repression in the human psyche is tightly bundled. When it has been pulled out of the sprung package so often it is perhaps difficult to push it back in the box.

Boxes, Difficult, Package, Perhaps, Sprung

Perhaps writers should never be allowed to get together in a workplace context. It's not like studying computer science, after all. The emotions are at large, and are shared and are questioned. There is a vulnerability.

Emotion, Questioned, Shared, Study, Together, Workplace

Every day the eye is subject to a thousand tiny shocks as a thousand industries compete for the eye-kick, the visual hook that will lock the consumer into product for that crucial second where the tiny - or not so tiny - leap of the imagination is made.

Compete, Crucial, Eye, Hook, Imagination, Locks

I've been a professional writer for 20 years, and there are contours in that time, crescents and troughs.

Crescent, Crescents, Time, Trough, Troughs, Years

The trouble with forgiveness is that some people don't want to be forgiven.

Forgiveness, People, Trouble, Want

If I couldn't get published tomorrow I'd still be writing. It's something to do with feeling so overwhelmed by this experience of life that you have to tell someone about it, and in a way that reorders the experience to make it manageable.

Experience, Feelings, Manageable, Published, Way, Writing

What I mean is this: you meet someone, you think about them. You're already changing because of the way you think about them. You meet them again, you think about them some more, you're changing again. And on it goes. You are changing right now. Before my eyes.

Already, Eye, Mean, Right, Thinking, Way

Fantasy gets a mixed reception - a lot of fantasy is formulaic but most of the award-winning fantasy on the contrary tends to be the stuff at the edges of the genre, rather than swimming in the middle.

Awards, Contrary, Genre, Swimming, Tends, Winning

The poetry and transgression that was so much of surrealism's anarchic force has been recruited into mainstream culture. It has been made commonplace by television and magazine merchandising, by computer games and Internet visuals, by film and MTV, by the fashion shoot.

Fashion, Mainstream Culture, Mtv, Poetry, Recruited

I've been playing 'Doom' for some years.

Doom, Playing, Years

Recasting fairy tales has become a publishing sub-genre in itself, and has been done both well and to the point of entropy. More interesting are those works where the structures of fairytales are abandoned but the world of 'fairy' is imported as a delicate spice.

Fairytale, Interesting, Point, Recasting, Spice, Spices

The mist hung in the air like a prancing unicorn.

Air, Mist, Prancing, Unicorn

The modern superstition is that we're free of superstition.

Free, Modern, Superstition, Superstitions

Rome is a place almost worn out by being looked at, a city collapsing under the weight of reference.

Cities, Place, Rome, Weight, Worn

The bluebells made such a pool that the earth had become like water, and all the trees and bushes seemed to have grown out of the water. And the sky above seemed to have fallen down on to the earth floor; and I didn’t know if the sky was the earth or the earth was water. I had been turned upside down. I had to hold the rock with my fingernails to stop me falling into the sky of the earth or the water of the sky. But I couldn’t hold on.

Earth, Fall, Fallen, Falling, Rocks, Sky

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Graham Joyce Biography

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