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Writing Warrior's also taught me some important lessons about how to both use and ignore critique. I have some strong ideas about the importance of the reader in the story process. I've always used test-readers; I write to communicate a vision, and I always like to check and try to see if the message-received sufficiently resembles the message-sent. I twice earnestly re-wrote my way down wrong turns,

when two trusted professional-level critiquers made suggestions

which, in both cases, would have been fatal to the book and the series that eventually followed it. One, under the impression that I was

writing standard commercial space opera, suggested I get rid of the entire opening sequence, including Miles's grandfather, and "start with the action" of the Beta Colony encounters; another had for personal reasons a view of the character of Bothari that was utterly hostile, and wanted a different version of his death. Trying to be a good little reviser, I finished these, sat back, and twitched for days.

Then tore them both out and put back my first visions.

The fundamental substance of a book, if you are writing a real

book, in your own blood, is not optional. The thematic vision often cannot be communicated—or even realized, if (as in my own case) the writing itself is a process of self-discovery—in partial sections. The whole must be present to become greater than the sum of the parts.

Test readers, however useful in some areas (spelling! grammar!

continuity! O please yes!) can become a hazard when they begin, on

the basis of incomplete information, trying in all good faith to help you to write some other book than the one you intend. For example,

the death of Miles's grandfather was based in a very oblique way on the death of one of my own grandfathers; cutting that sequence felt like chopping off my arm for very good reasons. Zelazny's dictum,

"Trust your demon," meaning, follow your own inner vision, eventually became a mantra for me.

Once past the center, the book went more quickly. Even the return

of Shards rejected from its first submission couldn't stop Miles's forward momentum by that time. I created Warriors final submission draft in the fall of 1984, turned back to an edit of Shards based on some editorial comments in its rejection letter (all of two sentences), and then began Ethan of Athos.

Seven months later Warrior's was returned unread from its first submission, because they'd decided not to take the revised Shards

and didn't want to break up the set. This was devastating at the time, but I was in fact grateful later. An editor at a second publisher read the first fifty pages, decided it was a juvenile, and kindly suggested I try a Young Adult publisher.

The YA publisher disagreed with this evaluation; the book was