As you know, transforming such a big book [The Gunslinger Born] into graphic novel format is really a process of translation.

Sometimes, as I'm following a story thread to its ultimate conclusion, I find that I start swimming in deep water and need to run an idea by Steve [King].

Steve [King] has been incredibly supportive. He's also really good about getting back to me when I have questions about plot or characterization.

In order to capture Mid-World for new readers, I had to streamline the original tale [ The Gunslinger Born], but I also had to incorporate scenes from earlier Dark Tower novels.

Originally, I broke the story [The Gunslinger Born] into eight comic books, but when the editors at Marvel thought we should make it more compact, I managed to cut back to seven.

My job on The Gunslinger Born was to take Stephen King's novel and transform it into a detailed, seven issue, scene-by-scene story.

I've learned a heck of a lot this way [making Dark Tower comics]. I've also learned a lot from the editors at Marvel, who are always an equal part in the creative team.

Bringing Mid-World to a new readership felt like a big responsibility, but I'm so glad that readers have enjoyed the story. That is a reward in itself.

After all, I want to make sure I stick with his original vision. So far, [Steven King] comments have always been the same - run with it!

Dream big, I dreamt of being taller when I was a kid, reinforced with flashbacks everyday I exercised diligently and to my surprise, I am still 5 feet tall.

Her laugh was wonderful. It was mischief made musical.

Anyone who says rock 'n' roll is a passing fad or a flash-in-the-pan trend along the music road has rocks in the head.

We all have circumstances, choose not to live in your circumstance, but live in your vision!

Our party has known great, great days. But we have no God-given right to survive, let alone to succeed.

There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.

Perhaps we had at last reached that stage of intimacy that destroys intimacy.

Good birth is a fine thing, but the merit is our ancestors.

A couple of flitches of bacon are worth fifty thousand Methodist sermons and religious tracts. They are great softeners of temper and promoters of domestic harmony.

This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.