A blog, if only barely.

Hey there everyone,

You know that thing that happens sometimes, when you slowly drift out of contact with a friend? Something changes in your life, or maybe a few things, and you slowly start to see them less often. Call them less often. Talk less often.

And before you know it, it’s been *ages* since you’ve talked. And it just feels weird reaching out for no reason? And it feels weird reaching out when you *do* have a reason too, because then you worry that it seems like you only give them a call when you need help moving a couch or digging up an old friend’s address.

I don’t know if that makes any sense to you. I kinda hope it doesn’t. It’s a lousy feeling. It sucks to drift away from friends.

For those of you who do know how it feels, or can imagine it…. well…. that’s how I’ve been feeling about the blog lately.

Except it’s not that simple. I still think of stories that it would be fun to tell…. but the thought of putting them up here? It wearies me. I feel so tired all the time lately. And it’s not just that I’m too busy, underslept, and behind on everything. It’s not just that the world is very heavy on me lately, and I’ve been having trouble finding joy. It’s not just that my dad passed away last year….

Did you know I’m the oldest person in my family now? I have no grandparents left. No parents. There are four of the Rothfuss name left in Wisconsin. One is my little sister, and the others are my boys. I love my sister, and the boys are a delight. But it is strange to be eldest. And it is strange to be so alone.

This is the other reason I don’t write much in the blog lately: A lot of my thoughts are not cheerful. I am not full of cute kid stories and musings on the nature of love. Lately I think about the fact that I need glasses to read. Which may seem like a small thing to you, especially if you’ve always worn glasses. But for me? I’ve read a book or two a day for my entire life. I’ve spent more time in my life reading than… probably any other activity. I’ve always been able to pick up a book and just… go. Just leave for somewhere else. I’ve lived so many other lives in so many other worlds.

And now I can’t do it any more unless I wear glasses. It’s like I’ve spent my whole life being able to travel to Narnia and now someone put a lock on the wardrobe door….

See? That’s some bummer shit right there. Who wants to read a blog about that? And I don’t know if it’s good for me to spend  hours of my life writing down my grim maunderings about the shape of the world and my own impending mortality. It would be like a shittier version of The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock where I replaced all the literary allusions with me shouting the word “fuck” all the time.

Anyway, I was just poking my head up on here to say… well… I guess I’m saying that I’m sorry we’ve been drifting apart, you and I. (And by you, I mean my blog, and the people who used to enjoy reading it.)

I hope we can figure out how to have fun together again at some point. I’m going to try posting up some little blogs soon. Just small things so that maybe  can remember what it was like when we just goofed off on here. I could show off presents people have sent me. Or talk about the time I got to hug Telly.

Poor telly. What a terrible expression of existential dread. I’m so sorry.

Anyway. That’s all I have for now, folks.

Take care of each other.



P.S. Also, for those of you who are into games, stories, and/or The Name of the Wind, there’s a cool storytelling game happening on kickstarter right now. The folks from Brotherwise games reached out to me a while back, and I liked the game enough to let them develop a 75 card expansion for it based off my books.

There are only 3 days left in the kickstarter. So if you’re the sort of person who loves kickstarter exclusives, you might want to hop on over there and check it out. 

Sorry that I haven’t mentioned it before now, but like I said. The blogs… they haven’t been coming so easy lately.

Maybe I’ll try to do a little blog where I show off some off some of the cards they’re prototyping for the game tomorrow. That might be an easy one to do… Help me get back into the swing of talking about fun things.

Anyway. Yeah. If you’re curious, here’s your link.

Later Edit: I just left a comment on my blog for the first time in a while. That new Gapcha is…. interesting. I think it’s going to be irritating in the long run though. I’ll see if I can find something a little less time consuming….

This entry was posted in a ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms, emo bullshit, gaming, musings, the man behind the curtain. By Pat427 Responses


  1. caori
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 4:41 AM | Permalink

    What I love about the blog is that it is very much like your novels – the words seem to flow easily and and spark emotions in the reader, whether it’s happiness, melancholy or sadness. Both your books and the blog helped me through a really rough time in my life and now even after 4 months without posts I still come here everyday just to check.
    Waiting for the Day 3 was never easy, but I believe nothing good can ever be forced. You’ve added a lot of value to many lives, the best we can do is to let you be you. Follow your own pace, your fans will still be here once you’re ready to meet with us again.

    • ryan
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:36 AM | Permalink

      You could save a lot of time by using an RSS reader like Feedly. Add the feeds from all of the sites you’re interested in, go to Feedly once each day and see only the new stuff. It’s saved me countless hours.

    • Chris
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:34 AM | Permalink

      If I could thumbs up this comment I would. It’s your delivery. It’s fun to read what you write because of the way you write it. It’s never “Jack and Jill went up the hill” with you. More “when the town flower Jill shrugged off her final suitor from the village dance and headed towards the well for a drink and a moment of solace, she smirked inwardly at the shadow that peeled away from the edges of the barn: the town scoundrel and her secret delight, Jack…”

      Ok. That was terrible but you get the gist. You’re a natural storyteller. You grip people with your words and make us feel, sometimes unexpectedly. Like staring at a piece of art on the wall and all of a sudden you’re crying even though it’s just a field and a sky.

      Anyway, you have a world of fans. Never feel like we are strangers because we reread your stories and know you again.

  2. Maria
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 4:56 AM | Permalink

    I like rainy days so much. There is a beauty in them. It might be how the light shines, not blunting every color, or maybe it is the smell in the air. I do enjoy sunny days too, but I have been always kin on rainy days.
    Today it is a rainy day in Paris. It is still summer, so not to cold, rather warm I would say. And I happen to come by your post. I never answer to post in blogs… I look for time to time to see if you have publish something new. But I wanted to answer today.
    There is beauty in everything. Whether we may see it or not. Like in rainy days. And we are all learning to let go, leave our fears aside and just be. Be the eldest, the youngest, the silliest, the smart one, the craziest, the loneliest. Anything that today might be, just be, because tomorrow we might me something else.
    There is beauty in everything. We may choose to see it.

    • Sandhya
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:26 AM | Permalink

      Ohhhh so beautifully put, Maria. My exact thoughts but you said it the best. Without dark how could we ever see the light. As always, much love to you Pat.

    • Amie Gallette
      Posted August 10, 2018 at 6:07 AM | Permalink

      Beautiful. Well said. Made me tear up and happy smile.

  3. Igor
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:23 AM | Permalink

    We love you, Pat. Please take care.

  4. Sarah
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:38 AM | Permalink

    Look for the helpers, theyre always there.

    Youre one of them, and you inspire others to be.

  5. Julian Mayer
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:38 AM | Permalink

    Take your time. Big changes in ones life take time to adapt…

    Be gentle with yourself, in whatever form this gentleness comes.

  6. Florian
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:45 AM | Permalink

    I love you Patrick. Because i feel the same way lately. Sometimes it feels like looking into a mirror. Life isnt always easy and fun and bright. Sometimes its just plain scary and sucks. But you bring something human and honest into my life. It means a great deal to me, to know i am not alone with feelings like that. So from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for just being you.

    Stay true to yourself and dont feel bad about it.

    Fondly yours

  7. Jona
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:45 AM | Permalink

    Hey man, listen:
    You have every right to be sad, worried, or in any way down. There is nothing wrong with it, and sharing about your experience and feelings tends to not only alleviate your burden, but also give hope and courage to others in the same predicament.

    There is certainly no need for guilt or abashedly wrangling your hands together as you look to the side. You’ve not faulted by being human.

    So be strong in these tough times, Bilbo it up, as it were, and take care of you, the way that is good for you.

    If that means taking a year long hiatus from the blog, so be it. On the other side of this friendship, no one will say “where have you been?” But rather, “it’s nice to see you back here,” with a smile and a slight bow of the head.

    Happy Thursday,

  8. Andrew Getting
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:48 AM | Permalink

    Have you seen a shrink or therapist? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the feelings you’ve got are normal considering what’s going on in the world and around you in particular, but the length of time suggests it might be depression.

    • Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:36 PM | Permalink

      I do see a therapist. Despite that, thanks for the advice (and good job giving it gently.)

      I recommend therapy to people all the time. It’s so important to get a professional to help you with your head when you need it. Just like it’s important to get a professional to help you with your body when it isn’t working the way it should….

      • Daniel Scott
        Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:02 PM | Permalink

        Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think your current therapy is working as well as it should? That’s some heavy stuff you seem to be dealing with.

        • Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:24 PM | Permalink

          I know you have good intentions here, but you’re overstepping.

          Again, I can tell you’re trying to help, but think about what you’re doing here: You’re suggesting that I re-evaluate my therapy strategy based on what you think after you read my blog.

          Do you really think you have enough information to make that sort of assessment, or that you’re qualified to do so?

          • Posted August 9, 2018 at 9:08 PM | Permalink

            Pat, you are a legend. And I find it quite intimidating making suggestions to legends. But you write with such open-ness and intimacy that you’ve become, for me anyway, a strange mixture of every-day human-ess and legendary awesomeness.

            I’m sorry for your loss. My Dad died 4 weeks ago. My Dad’s passing has ushered in a tapestry of history, emotion, befuddlement, gratitude (he was a kind man with a quiet strength, and we got to know each other deeply), baffled by the incomprehension of Death (I sat with the body for quite a time – extraordinary and beyond words) and of course, loss.

            I’ve had days where I’ve felt like a little boy missing his Daddy. I’ve had other days where I’ve felt a quiet strength, as if my Dad’s qualities have somehow been dialled up in volume within me, accompanied by a knowing that I am a Man, and a father, and it’s time to live what I know, building on what I’ve learnt from him.

            This doesn’t make me an authority on your situation of course. As I read this back, I’m worried it will come across as ‘instructive’, maybe I’m trying to be something special to a legend (I don’t yet have my Dad’s humility!). But woven in this post is also my heartfelt desire to be helpful, and I do feel a kinship.

            I think Daniel’s suggestion to re-evaluate therapy is a fair one and he was brave to put it out there. Or maybe arrogant. Geeze, it’s such a fine line.

            I’ve been through various therapeutic processes over several decades. There’ve been periods where commitment was required, during which re-evaluation would have been a cop-out. And there was one occasion where I made a call that I needed to pull the plug on it, and it was a good decision. And that time it was provocation from an outsider, unwanted, who overstepped, that helped me do it. What your situation is, I don’t claim to know and it’s none of my business, though I sense that you know what’s best for you.

            Anyway, I haven’t come on to your website for about a year, so it’s funny that I return to find your blog with this ‘drifting friends’ theme, and of course, my Dad’s dying 3 weeks ago has I suppose prompted this input. Hope I haven’t overstepped. I do greatly admire you and I don’t want to piss you off.

            Anyway, thanks for your great open-ness in these blogs. Thanks for your Goodreads recommendations- they have enriched my life and those of my 5 year-old daughter Arlya (‘The little house,’ I got on your recommendation, and has become a bedtime story favourite).

            And most of all, thanks for the Kingkiller Chronicles to date. I actually visited your site for the first time in a year to find out how you’re going with number 3. I’ve moved from ‘Can’t wait’ to ‘whenever-it’s-time-it’s-time’ (plenty of other great books to read). Just make sure you finish it before you die, okay?

      • Matt Beaney
        Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:55 PM | Permalink

        My Partner suffers from Anxiety and Depression and she’s found therapy very helpful too, but what she says helped her the most is daily meditation and mindfulness exercises.

        Since she started meditating, I’ve noticed a massive improvement in her mental health. She’s having many more good days than bad, where once it was about 50/50.

        I hope you’re able to find something that works as well for you.

      • Camille Chaustre McNally
        Posted August 10, 2018 at 7:36 AM | Permalink

        I’m the friend that recommends therapy to people as well. You’re a good man Charlie Brown.

  9. Bianca Puchalski
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:53 AM | Permalink

    It’s impossible to blame you after all you’ve been through. People sometimes forget that our favorite living writers are more than just that. I’m sorry about your father, your eyes and that feeling of being old. BTW I do understand that feeling of catching up after a long time just to need something from that person. It sucks. Hope you can put everything in its place and also I hope you’ve had time to talk about ducks with your son.

  10. Posted August 9, 2018 at 5:56 AM | Permalink

    The Mortality Mode is a scary one. It definitely sucks bigtime. I lost my dad last year too – well, he died, I didn’t mislay him. And now I have that feeling that if I don’t shake a leg this novel might never get written, or may be completed by an autobot and be like the final novel of Mervyn Peake where Titus is alone and bewildered for most of it. I can’t let that happen to my characters!

    I hope most of your third book is finished too. Just out of sympathy for Kvothe and his buddies, needing them to have closure. But of course you have to be suffused with joy or rage or indignant at life to write it, I imagine, so I hope that a small joy creeps into your life soon, and gnaws on your sneakers, or reveals a key from its paw, or whispers in your ear when you are dozing. Good luck, and thanks for re-blogging.

  11. Thomas Sloan
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:13 AM | Permalink

    Dear Mr Rothfuss,

    I love your work including your blog, when I say I enjoy your words immensely I am under rather than overstating it. Your thoughts and musings, positive and negative, frequently echo my own and this sympathy always lifts me up. The fact that you put them out there even at times when it is hard makes me feel blessed and privileged to share in them. You have given so much of yourself and your work makes my world better each day. This will still be true if you never published a word further, you owe me nothing.

    Tommy Sloan
    a Fan

  12. Stormy
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:15 AM | Permalink

    I have missed this blog and apparently your happiness. I’m sorry for your losses and hope you find your way out of this depression soon. I’ve struggled with my own in the past and certainly understand how hard it can be to find the joy in even the things you love the most. Hang in there.

  13. BruceIV
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:19 AM | Permalink

    I shuttered my own blog a few months back because I felt guilty about not posting, but the only emotion that would push me hard enough to write something was seething rage, and I realized that wasn’t healthy for me. I’ve been happier since.

    Your blogs are great, and I’ll gladly read any you post, but you gotta do what’s right for you.

  14. Bex
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:23 AM | Permalink

    I absolutely love your honesty! Sometimes we don’t feel like doing the things we feel we “should” be doing and I think that’s ok! I find so much value in saying to the world “Not today thanks” and taking time to just feel my way through whatever it is I’m feeling. Enjoy his time, you’ll love the version of yourself you’ll find at the other side

  15. Kris
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:37 AM | Permalink

    I think I’m staring at the same sky on a different mountain, waiting for the weather to change.

    Here’s to the eventual break in the clouds lad.

  16. Cynthia L
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:50 AM | Permalink

    Hi Patrick. A friend in the Wayward group posted a picture of you at a convention last month and I was startled to see how tired you appeared. The first time I saw you in person was when Oot was little and you were telling the Daddy breastfeeding story, so that’s a long time ago. I know you are under a lot of pressure to get all the things done and make your family safe and happy. But I want to tell you, it’s none of our business what you do. We should be the least of your worries. We want you to be the (semi) carefree guy we met at the Barnes and Nobles in Orange and Huntington Beach, CA and who told us funny stories and swore and apologized for swearing. I know I’ll probably never get to meet you again but I’m more worried about your health and happiness than anything for myself. Get yourself happy again if you can and try to ignore the barking dogs of commerce.

    All my best wishes, Cynthia

  17. Ian Hartman
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:54 AM | Permalink

    Pat, check out the band Katatonia, listen to their live album “Sanctitude” in full… it’s dark but, for me, highly cathartic.

    Their song “Old Heart Falls” from the album “The Fall of Hearts” sings to my soul.

  18. Ben
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 6:59 AM | Permalink

    You may think you are the eldest. However, when you write and share as you have done so well, you have created a whole new family. Maybe our last name is different from yours, but I will bet Auri’s missing shoelaces that many of the folks you have touched will count you as a brother.

    So, much like brothers who haven’t seen each other for a bit, sure, you need to find that starting conversation. Elodin may counsel you to take the second path, and just talk about the small things until you can talk about the big things.

    Either way, when you are ready, we, your readers, will be here. To quote someone you know,

    One Family.

    • Lynn Ford
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:32 AM | Permalink

      One Family is right.

      • Lynn Ford
        Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:44 AM | Permalink

        If you’re reading these Pat, if you need to share we will happily listen. No judgement. Emotional health is hard. Everybody struggles with it. We are here to listen and support you if you need to clear the air.

        You are not alone.

        • Rhyesa Jackson
          Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:04 AM | Permalink

          This. So very this.

          Your biological family may be small but you have a huge huge family all over the world. You aren’t alone. You aren’t the oldest.

          We may not always be around to give you that physical hug when you need it but hopefully these comments can serve as a digital one.

          As far as the glasses, have you considered contacts? They can do miracles with multi-focal lenses these days that might be able to help you with reading.

    • Duffy
      Posted August 10, 2018 at 3:27 AM | Permalink

      Good man Ben. One family Pat.

  19. Renato
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:00 AM | Permalink

    Please, Pat. Tell us about your glasses!

    It’s your blog, you can write about whatever you want, and we’ll read it cause you make things like ~having to wear glasses to read~ something interesting.

    Use it to have fun too!

  20. Baerbel Ziegler
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:02 AM | Permalink

    Dear Pat,
    take all the time you want or need. Take your time for your family.
    Don’t force yourself upon writing here if it feels wrong at the moment.
    And never think you owe us. We are the kind of friends who can be phoned after 15 years and still be there. So no worries about us please.

  21. Cynthia L
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:04 AM | Permalink

    Hi Patrick. A friend posted a photo or you recently in the Wayward group that he took with you at convention and I noted how tired you looked. You don’t have to worry about satisfying anyone’s priorities but your own. We don’t matter, only you and your loved ones.
    I met you long ago when you came to Orange and Huntington Beach, CA Barnes & Nobles. It was when Oot was little and you tole the Daddy breastfeeding story. You were so relaxed and told so many wonderful stories. I worry that that guy has been buried under the weight of obligation. Please try not to listen to the clamoring crowd and try to let all the stress flow away.

    All my best wishes,
    Cynthia L
    PS My first message disappeared and if I posted twice please forgive me.

  22. Cynthia
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:08 AM | Permalink

    I can only reiterate what others are saying. We don’t matter. Take care

    PS I keep trying to post and it’s not showing. I apologize if you are getting a bunch of posts from me, I don’t know what I am doing wrong with the Captcha

  23. Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:11 AM | Permalink

    I know that feeling too well. However, I´ve been checking your blog every day in hopes that you post something again.
    Writing depressing stories and also reading them actually helps me. It makes me feel less alone in these feelings. If we look at you and your blog as a (weird kind of) friendship, I don´t think it´s right to push yourself to only express positive feelings. True friends are for support in tough times, not only for fun.
    I hope you will feel better soon.

  24. Yishai
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:12 AM | Permalink

    I get your feelings. I lost both of my parents. my father from ALS when i was alomst 19 and my mother when i was 20 and in the IDF.
    In my own nuclear family I am the oldest and it been so since my mother died. I don’t have any magic solutions and no one gave me any as well. Life goes on and you learn to live with the pain and the memories.
    You need to remmember what you had, but must importently to remmember what you still have that you need and want to protect and prosper.
    Thanks to your books i had been opened in to the deepness of story telling and I try to write a story myself with a friend (which showed me your books).
    Thank you and be strong! life is not easy and will never be. It’s our choice how to live it.
    Sorry for my horrible english, I just hope that google translate helped me enuogh so you could understand.

  25. Daniel
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:14 AM | Permalink

    Life sucks but we have to live it the better way we can…

    Have fun!

  26. Shawn
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:14 AM | Permalink


  27. Lynn Ford
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:22 AM | Permalink

    This was good to read Pat. I’m sorry to hear you’re struggling right now. I certainly understand it. Everybody seems to be really struggling right now. It’s hard to nurture yourself these days with things that fill you with hope and love.

    For what it’s worth, even when it’s sad your words comfort me. They’re honest and real. They feel true for me whenever I read them. My heart is with you and yours sir. I’m proud to be a reader of yours, you have yet to disappoint. Thank you for reaching out!

  28. Kate
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:26 AM | Permalink

    Ours is a weird friendship, in that we’re really not friends, never see each other, and (as much as I love your writing) wouldn’t recognize each other if we passed on a street. However, you are one of the people who has brought genuine joy to my life, and so you will always be important to me. Having said all of that, you have no responsibility to always be sunshine and bubbles for us (your readers.) If we want to enjoy you at your happiest, you deserve for us to be there for you at your lowest. If sharing the rough times on your blog helps, do that. If avoiding the blog helps, do that. If pretending that you’ve been possessed by ferret demons and writing blogs from their point of view helps, do that. And if there’s anything we can do to help, let us know.

  29. Christian Delfs
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:27 AM | Permalink

    Dear Pat,

    like already told: You are not alone and you are not the oldest in your family!
    We all are a really big family, created by YOU! (Oh crap, don’t get that one wrong…)

    The very name of this family is Edema Ruh. We may not be here physically, but when you return we will welcome you. It totally was a feeling of meeting a brother when you came to Leipzig and we met at your signing.

    Take your time, all the time you need. I missed your blogs, but I will be waiting.

    So Long!

  30. Mandee Erhart
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:30 AM | Permalink

    I backed this Kickstarter. I didn’t really look into the game all that much. I did it for the same reason I backed the deck of cards for NOTW. The books are a fantastic read (well that is a huge understatement, but I digress). Seeing the characters brought to life in art form is exciting to me. I want to own a piece of the them any way I can. Also I saw Pat in Cincinnati recently and loved listening to him speak. I was star struck, I could barely put two words together when I met him, but I did get up the courage to ask for a hug and it was a great hug! I’m sorry to hear it’s been a hard world for him lately. It saddens me to hear anyone is having a hard time of it. Keep doing what you can for others and maybe a little of that magic will touch your heart and soul in uplifting ways too.

    • Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:54 PM | Permalink

      You’re a good hugger too, Mandee.

      Thanks for being tolerant of me going off the rails a little in Cincinnati during my talk….

      • Kir
        Posted August 12, 2018 at 6:47 PM | Permalink

        I got a hug from you in Orange, CA back in 2013. You made a joke about it being okay so long as my boyfriend wouldn’t come after you with a battle ax. The hug was great but the real gift was the imagery of my beloved wielding an ax!

        I’m sure you’ve seen this, but it’s one of my favorite stories of depression. I’ll touch back on it when I’m deep in the trough of misery and need to remember that humor can also come out of a dark place:


        Sending a Jedi hug through the etherwaves… Good luck and hang in there! It can have an end.

        • Ariane
          Posted August 16, 2018 at 8:09 AM | Permalink

          Thank you for sharing! I have way too many friends who still cannot understand/accept depression (which makes it even worse) and this may actually help explaining it

  31. Eric
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:31 AM | Permalink

    I was so happy to see your blog post this morning. And, speaking personally, I don’t read your blog because of how I want you to be. I read your blog because you already are who I’m interested in. I like the way you think and how you normalize mental health. Your perspective on the world (the fun stuff and the heavy stuff). Only being able to read the good, clever, fascinating stuff, isn’t what I’m interested in…it just you. Just your thoughts. That really is why I come here.
    Thanks for sharing, when you’re able. I’ll keep coming back, no matter the topic.

  32. Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:32 AM | Permalink

    Sending hugs. You’re allowed to be other than happy and entertaining all the time. It sounds like you’ve been adjusting to several “new normals” simultaneously, and that you’re starting to find a new equilibrium with all of it, but don’t expect it to be a straight progression and don’t beat yourself up if some days you’re more ready to face the world than others. Also, there’s a difference between someone who only ever calls when they want something and someone who has been an awesome friend for years and years but who is going through a tough time right now and needs to focus on their own self-care. I think most of us get that and will be here when you’re ready to play again (and when you need to move that couch).

    • Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:52 PM | Permalink

      I read this, and for the first time ever, I wished there was a *like* button I could click here on the blog.

      You’re very kind, Lisa. Thanks.

    • Karim
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 3:28 PM | Permalink

      It sounds like you’ve been adjusting to several “new normals” simultaneously, and that you’re starting to find a new equilibrium with all of it

      That’s a great way to put it!

    • Chris
      Posted August 9, 2018 at 4:42 PM | Permalink

      This was very beautifully said Lisa.

    • Posted August 12, 2018 at 8:45 AM | Permalink

      Beautifully written Lisa. Thank for that!

  33. Louise
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:34 AM | Permalink

    I’m just going to send you a hug.


    We will always be here to read your words, whenever you feel ready to share them with us. It shows how lovely you are that you are thinking about us when you are feeling blue. Xxx

  34. Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:34 AM | Permalink

    I have trouble seeing some friends. Being a father of 3 and an entrepreneur makes for little room to sleep, littlest to meet old friends. But I don’t worry about it. Most of them know me, they know where I come from, they know my dreams, they know my speech, they know my name.

    We don’t owe each other anything, except one little thing. That little thing is to let go of our guilt. If we can feel bad about not seeing each other, it’s only because we think about each other when we’re apart. And that’s a good thing and it shouldn’t become a bad thing.

    And that’s what I wanted to share with you Pat. We’re friends and friends only owe to each other not to let good things become bad.

  35. Stephanie Mendoza
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:38 AM | Permalink

    I would love to read Prufrock with fuck thrown in there. I love you Patrick Rothfuss. I’m so very glad to hear from you again. I totally understand what you are saying, the feelings that are daunting and relentless. We are here for you and with you. It is hard to find joy for me as well, then I pick up a book and travel to another one. Which, may not have joy either but it’s perfect.

  36. Dennis
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:43 AM | Permalink

    Hi Pat,

    I picked up The Name of the Wind this past weekend and I love it. Then I found your blog and saw this post. My dad passed away 2 years ago and the anniversary was a couple weeks ago. I posted the following note on Facebook for family and friends. After seeing your blog post, I thought I would share it here as well. And thanks again for your amazing book.

    My dad died 2 years ago today. I wanted to share a few thoughts from my own experience in the hope that it might help someone else out there who is dealing with grief.

    If someone you know is suffering from a loss, I would suggest that you don’t need to “have the answers” or “fix the situation” for them. All you have to do is be there and be willing to listen. Just show up. You don’t have to worry about saying the right or wrong thing. You can help by simply being there by their side.

    When I flew home to see my dad, my family and friends were there. I don’t know how I would have dealt with those hours in the hospital without my brothers and sisters. Then a friend showed up within hours of my plane landing. Another friend drove hours to be there for the the funeral. And another friend surprised me by showing up at the wake after not seeing each other for years. I turned around to see him and we hugged. Those are the moments I remember.

    Now a couple years later I’ve noticed how fast time passes. I can’t believe it’s been 2 years already. When a loved one passes away, time seems to slow down. You become hyper-aware of every second as you try to process the news and organize the arrangements. Time almost slows to a standstill.

    Then you slowly return to the “normal routine” and life speeds up again. You tell yourself you’ll “appreciate every day from now on”, but then life kicks back into gear and there’s work to be done and kids that need looked after.

    My only suggestion for the busy life is to try to “be present and live in the moment”. It’s a daily struggle for me to be honest. I find it helps to remind myself that those ordinary moments in a day with your family and friends are what it’s all about, really.

    So I hope this helps even in the slightest way for someone else out there today. To know you are not alone and that, yes, you do come through it.

    “You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” ― Anne Lamott

  37. Heath A Nelson
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:47 AM | Permalink

    Thanks for the post. I enjoyed it. I’ll be thinking of you.

  38. Tim A
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:50 AM | Permalink

    I don’t know how this translates to blogs, but I definitely know how you can drift apart from people over time AND feel guilty about it.
    What I have found is that the door swings both ways. Which is to say effort has to be made on both sides, things happen, life happens, you get caught up in stuff. When that happens and the other party hasn’t made an effort either it’s okay to not feel guilty about it. Relationships are a two way street, you need effort on both sides for them to be meaningful. I’ve notice that when this happens with old friends the ones who stick around are the ones who say, “No matter what happens, how much time has past, we can always pick up right where we left off”

  39. Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:53 AM | Permalink

    Yep. Also needing glasses to read. Side effect of hitting my mid-40s.

  40. John Petersen
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:56 AM | Permalink

    You shall always have water and wine with dinner at this table, good sir. We all love you from a distance and root for your many exploits (and explatives) everyday. You’ve shown us all how to be more human, more adventurous, and how to let our imaginations carry us to places and into roles we never thought possible. People all over the world are picking up your books for the first time any minute of the day, and I envy their falling in love with Kvothe, Auri, Elodin, Sim, Will, Denna, and all the rest, for the first time. And many of us are re-reading and spending time with these old friends that provide comfort, perspective, laughs, tears, and inspiration. That’s who you are to the most distant stranger, and so much more to those who are fortunate enough to be close to your heart. If we could, we would all send Chronicler your way to fill the silence of three parts and remind you that the story isn’t over, and that you are the infamous Patrick Rothfuss! You have fae blood, and sleep only a few hours a night. You can talk to demons, hold a sextuple binding, triple distill, and call the name of the wind. You’re Kvothe the Arcane. And your story has a life of its own.

    Love and respect to you. Luck and leisure. And above all, our thanks for being you.

  41. Lora
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 7:58 AM | Permalink


  42. Taylor
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:04 AM | Permalink

    Hey Pat.

    My name is Taylor, and I know you don’t know me, but I feel like I know you. Your writing inspires me. Not in the way that people say they are inspired to do any one thing in particular. It’s the type of inspiration that lets me become my most authentic self. I never comment on anything, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say something here. Take care of your soul. Whether that is writing in the blog, or geting as far away as possible. It’s okay to be not okay. Be genuinely yourself, because that’s what you inspire others to do. As the best friends are, your blog and your readers are the kind you can pick back up with like no time has past at all.

    Best regards always.

  43. Dario
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:09 AM | Permalink

    It is quite peculiar how you seem to have a wonderful family, friends and even a lovely fanbase. Yet, you seem to find despair much more often than hapiness.

    Slowly, in tiny bits, let yourself be loved.
    Listen to the ones that love you. They are by your side only because they care.
    Let them in. In the middle of chaos, asking and accepting help from your people might end ub being the key.

    May you find peace soon enough Pat.

    Meanwhile, feel free to share without pretensions at all in these lovely texts.

  44. Arvis Pinkletter
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:12 AM | Permalink

    Welcome to middle age, friend. I’m around the same age as you, and experiencing many of the same feelings. My body is starting to fall apart and things that I used to love to do are falling out of reach. I’ve gone through the same cycles with friends and family many times, and I’m always a little surprised that they’re still friendly on the occasions when we do talk. Living heroes of mine are dead, dying, or retiring. Mortality feels close. These are heavy feelings. Just know that you’re not alone in having them, take comfort in what you have.

  45. Tsani
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:13 AM | Permalink

    Dearest Patrick. Ageing is inevitable, growing up is optional. By that I mean to say that worrying oftentimes doesn’t help anyone. Being careful is one thing, obsessing over stuff is a completely different one. Enjoy life at it’s fullest, like the kid you are, like de geek we love. You objectively know that wearing glasses isn’t the end of the world; rather it is a necessity. Now that you’ve unlocked the reading-grandmaster level, you need glasses before you start your quests. Think of all the cool stats that come with wearing glasses, though! You are deeply loved and there’s a horde of people who’d fight anything by your side.
    Your blog is one of the sweetest places on the internet. I should be catching some sleep before work later tonight, but a trip to the blog is always a treat, whatever the story. It is a meeting with a true side of you. Soon there’ll be people able to call you by your true name. Keep that copper dagger well at hand.
    I love you and I care about your well-being. I don’t know about the others, although I guess there’s more than just me who feel this way. You’re a hell of a cool man and good at anything you put your heart.
    I’d better stop my rambling, so let me summarise: you’re cool, don’t worry about things you cannot change (it’s pointless), learn the lessons you think you need from things past and keep moving on. It’s better to make your own way than to be pushed around by life. You just need some time to readjust to the pace.
    Lots of love from one who cares about you more than about your work. You’re awesome.

  46. Adam S
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:14 AM | Permalink

    Hi Pat. You are much loved by your extended, nerdy family. Please take care of yourself.

    And remember, if you feel like you’re getting too old, that every step towards being Old Man Rothfuss is a step towards being Teccam. You will get to live in a cave and didact at people! It’s the best possible outcome.

    But in all seriousness, if you need to talk, vent, whatever, you can. I think most of us (certainly myself) would be willing to talk with you one on one as a willing ear. If you need to let it out or work it through, use me, or any of us, we’ll be here for you.

  47. Tyler
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:17 AM | Permalink

    I’ve always gravitated to your writing and musings because of their candid and perceiving nature. You have a way of seeing and describing the world without all of the BS that other avenues contain. The world isn’t always easy or fun or invigorating, but it is the world we live in. I’ve come to your blog for years to see the world from a different perspective; a real perspective that others can’t seem to capture. That realism comes from talking about the bad times as well as the good; the fun and the sad stories. So do what you need to care of yourself and your family first. This group of friends will be patiently waiting for the chance to hear your thoughts and see the world through your eyes (even if they require some prescriptive correction) when you reach out for us again. I’m thankful to have heard from you, and wish you all the best along this troubled road.

  48. Bernadette Palmer
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:22 AM | Permalink

    I just wanted to say that you have hit the nail right on the thumb (OUCH!), but it’s ok, we are all in this together. I love your books and can’t wait for the next one. 😁

  49. ryan
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:25 AM | Permalink

    Little chance of you reading down this far, but taking your own advice on the matter is what is best. retract from the word inot the cocoon of your family. watch your boys play stroke your wife’s hair.

  50. Rory
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:34 AM | Permalink

    It’s always a great feeling checking on the blog and seeing a fresh post. It really is like seeing an update from a friend, one that you’re oddly super interested to see what they’re up to. The frequency to me doesn’t diminish the enjoyment. I truly am sorry for your loss. Depression is horrible, I only recently went on medication which is sort of helping. Talking helps, took me a long long long time to realise that. I really hope this cloud passes for you mate.

    Thanks for the amazing stories Pat, looking at the comments above and having seen the amazing community of fans you’ve inspired, I don’t think you ever need to worry about us drifting apart.

  51. Hilary S
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:47 AM | Permalink

    Welcome back friend.

  52. Kaylan Senour
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:50 AM | Permalink

    The beauty is, you have a fantastic fanbase who adore “The Slow Regard of Silent Things.”

    We understand. And we still love you, and I can only speak for myself on the next bit… But I’m glad you called to say hi, even though it felt weird.

  53. Janet
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:53 AM | Permalink

    I don’t check in often but I did this am. Echoing the sentiments of many comments above. Breathe. Slow down. Take your time to rediscover the joy in life that has been so embodied in your writings and activities over the years. Maybe focus on small things for a while. Know that this group, (and others who don’t post) will wait with you and for you as you “catch yourself” (my son’s former Tobago nanny’s phrase). Exercise self care. This world needs you!

  54. Loken
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 8:59 AM | Permalink

    Hello my friend,

    That feeling, or rather that cluster of many small bad burning sensations, rancid realizations and the constant crushing pressure of time, is a really shitty feeling to feel. A few drops of cold rain on your shirt, you can handle. But when soaked, it becomes a strain. And when you can’t even pinpoint exactly what is raining down on you, it eventually starts to weigh on your heart.

    I hope all the best for you.

    Because even though I don’t know you the last bit, I really believe that you deserve to feel that feeling that says, “I feel good, and everything is going to be alright.”

    Best Regards,

    Elias N. Lockne

  55. Carol
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM | Permalink

    So randomly this year the vision in my right eye went to shit.

    I had just had a kid and turned thirty, almost died in childbirth and had my gallbladder removed three months later, and then I started getting dizzy.

    It took me weeks to realize it was because I have an astigmatism in my right eye.

    I get it, it stinks when the world seems like it is crapping out, or your body seems like it is crapping out, you just keep thinking “why can’t I just catch a break” and that things are insane.

    I don’t have the resources to do this, but if I were you I would take your family and go away to someplace beautiful and magical for three months, live in airbnbs, take a nanny, just see other things, feel other discomforts, taste other spices.

    Don’t think about card games or writing, just be, drop off social media and take some pictures just for yourself.

    Good luck.

  56. Paul
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 9:15 AM | Permalink

    Hey Pat, I’m sure you won’t read this, God knows you probably have more important things to do.

    At this point I’ve been a fan of you for 10 years, and even though I know about you because of your books, I follow you because of who you are. I just hope you know how much people out there care about you, regardless of whatever state Book 3 is in. Take care of yourself first, whatever that involves.

  57. Zeljko
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 9:21 AM | Permalink

    Hello Path,

    your books were and are every day for me on my bookshelves or in my bag or on youtube. I love your writing and honesty, also I am living alone in Austria, and thx god that I know, how Kvothe fehlt when he was in city of Tarbean. I am also coming last 4 months everyday to see if it’s everything ok. Your books and your writing have so much influence on me and on my life, that I can’t explain it. You are a good man with lot of staff, from your Family, blog, twitch, movie……. everybody expecting somthing from you and tou are in a middle of nowhere. I hope that you will be spending more time on your joy and family. I wish you luck :)

    P.s. the game is awesome

  58. Danielle Parker
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:09 AM | Permalink

    Nah… We’re like that one friend who you love each other, but for some reason go with like 2 years in between talking. When you do it’s like ” HECK YEAH, FRIEND” . We know you do you. We’re here and we’re always happy to hear from you when we do :)

  59. Cissi
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:12 AM | Permalink

    Hi. I know exactly what you mean, both with the drifting apart and reaching out thing and with the whole the world is heavy on you. You ask who would want to read a blog about all the bummer shit you’re feeling and thinking right now, but I personally would love to read your thoughts on mortality and depression and needing glasses. I think it’s important we all talk about that stuff, and important to see others feeling and thinking the same thing, and ultimately help each other feel maybe a little better.

    For example what you wrote in this post resonates a lot with me. My grandma died last year, and this year my granddad died, which means I’ve been thinking a lot on mortality and what you can expect from life. I’m just in my early twenties, but my parents are in the upper sixties and now, since the passing of my last grandparents, they are the oldest of the entire family. And honestly I’m scared of them dying. Not scared that they’ll die right now, but 10, 15, 20 years feels like nothing when it comes to my parents’ eventual passing. Also considering what you can expect from life, not just in length but content too; I’ve said too many times to my therapist that I don’t want to live the next say 50 years if I’ll be feeling the same way I’ve done for the first 24, because as you said, the world lies heavy on me too. And it’s important that we share those feelings, and see that people from all over and from all walks of life can feel the same, and how we all deal with that.

    (The part about not being able to read in the same way you used to resonated too, but not because of glasses ’cause I wear those all the time anyway. I used to read all the time when I was younger, but with a long depression and resulting difficulties to concentrate it takes a LOT for me to pick up a book. I bought Naomi Novik’s new book the other week and it’s been lying next to me in bed for a week, and I haven’t even opened it yet. It’s a kind of grief and a process, getting used to the new normal.)

    I guess what I wanted to say with this post (that kind of got away from me a little bit) is that I’m glad you’re back to posting, even if just a little, and I personally don’t come here to always be entertained with amusing anecdotes (even though I do enjoy them a lot), I come here to read your thoughts on things. If those things happen to be heavy shit, well, then I want to read that too. I’m a firm believer that sharing things make things better, for the one sharing and for the one reading who thought they were the only one.

    Thank you for all you do.


    • Cissi
      Posted August 14, 2018 at 12:55 PM | Permalink

      Replying to my own comment, but just wanted to follow up on the whole reading thing that I complain about above. After writing this I went to bed that night thinking well what the fuck, I’ll try reading. And then I read for like two hours. And I read the day after, and the day after that, and then in three days I read two books (Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik and The Girl in the Tower by Katherine Arden (if anyone is reading this and want to recommendm books like them, please do!)). So uh yeah, talking about things helped a little and I read two books and could not be more pleased with it :)


  60. Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:12 AM | Permalink

    While I do not create the beauty you do with your words I have suffered from depression and experienced loss. My whole life. People I love and cherish leave. Whether they just leave me or die the pain is the same. You have given so much joy to so many. I cannot express the complete feeling your writing evokes in me. All I can do is say thank you. Please be kind to yourself. Getting old is better than the alternative. The good that comes from your efforts with world builders is reason alone to be happy. We are here to love one another. Thank you for using your fan base to do good and show us where we can love one another. May peace and joy return to your heart. May you find the strength to lift this burden one more time. Waiting for your next communication with anticipation and love.

  61. Ian Fisher
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:15 AM | Permalink

    Hey Pat. Honestly, you really didn’t have to write this. You don’t owe us anything, and whilst many of us have gotten plenty of joy from reading your blog over the years, its continuation is not something that we or you should worry over. People move on and find other things to entertain them (e.g. whilst I haven’t been able to enjoy as many blog posts from you in recent years, I’ve loved seeing you in Aq Inc and Critical Role!). So you just relax and do whatever you want to do for yourself. And if you ever feel like blogging again, then go for it. And if you don’t, that’s also fine.

  62. Ashton
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:36 AM | Permalink

    Pat, we’re so glad to hear from you! No need to feel awkward, our relationship is a happy one where we just pick up where we’ve left off. On a serious note I am so sorry you’re struggling. As a person who lives with a cloak of depression, though high functioning, it still flavors everything. It takes my thoughts deep and dark with little to no effort and for that I sympathise. I hope you can have relief soon.

  63. Martha Hodson
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:47 AM | Permalink


    If you read this, or one of your people reads this, or whatever… we get it. And, I get it. I had my dream job, working overseas, with a support base back in the States that I wrote to on a monthly basis. I was about 24. My mother was going through chemotherapy, and my close friend was teaching English in a Latin American country that was inching toward civil war.

    The ocean between me and the people I loved was an ache I felt every day. Life was too real. How could I write about the mundane realities of working with young people in a community known for drug wars and mafia-style? How could I share that, and the worries I carried, the vast emptiness of grief and potential doom with Midwestern housewives who might have known something like one of those things?

    I learned that writing can be a kind of therapy. It doesn’t always need to be shared, even when it’s written for a large audience. There was no joy in the words during those days. Not like there can be. Instead, I found small amounts of catharsis- little releases, as if my woe were a geyser sending up tiny puffs of steam in preparation for the big event. (That turned out to be a breakdown in the bathroom of the O’Hare airport at Christmas. Yep. Happy times.)

    Still, there were days when I couldn’t find words for what I was going through. That happens. It’s a hard state to be in when the words just naturally flow in an effortless stream. The words didn’t abandon me, though. They came back. Yours will, too.

    What I want to tell you, one humble and broken person to another, is to write when there are words. Share what you think you can handle sharing, and hold the rest back. Be distant for as long as you need. Just remember that you’ve got an audience who continue to love and support you, even this sadder version of you.

  64. Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:50 AM | Permalink

    Pat, the thing about old friends like us is that we know, sometimes even instinctually. But also, we probably know because we’ve grown up together, and even though we’ve drifted, we’re still friends because we’ve always had so much in common. And right now, one of the things we have in common is that weariness – of the world, of change, of aging, of things (even the things we may doubt at times but know in our heart of hearts we’re good at) just seeming harder than they used to.

    You’re not alone, brother.

  65. Jan
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:53 AM | Permalink

    Am I the only one who thinks Pat + Glasses = Dumbledore? :-)

  66. Anon
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 10:54 AM | Permalink

    Pat, I completely understand where you are coming from. I, fortunately, still have family that I can rely on, but the other stuff you are saying hits pretty close to home for me. I can understand that you don’t want your blog to be full of this kind of stuff, but I am glad you occasionally share it with us. It definitely goes a long way towards making me feel less alone when I see that people I respect are having these sorts of feelings as well.

  67. Andrew Jones
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:03 AM | Permalink

    Hah, I recently was trying to fix an iphone and needed to check the type of head on a tiny screw. I looked at it, and nothing registered. I squinted and moved it back and forth. and simply could not get it to be anything but a little black blob. Since then I have been holding things I need to read further and further away and know reading glasses are in my near future. I also have dodged the glasses bullet for the most part until now. Things like this are a constant reminder that some things do not get better, some wounds never heal and the optimistic surety of a young man that all obstacles can be overcome leaves us.

    And then there is all the death.. we begin to lose more friends and loved ones than we gain.

    BUT I try to remember, while 42 is a bummer compared to 32, 72 will undoubtedly be worse. I will look back on this time, if I am still around, and wish I had eyes that only needed a little help to read. So I try my best to appreciate what I have left.

    Thank you for sharing your experience Pat. Don’t worry, I dont think most people believe you owe us a blog. You are still not our bitch.

  68. Luis
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:12 AM | Permalink

    Sorry things have been like this, pat. I’ve never met you, we certainly don’t know each other. But this has been a pretty bad year for me. A friend of mine died suddenly. She was young. A family member is dying a slow drawn out death, a rather brutal one for those around him.

    There’s nothing I can say that can make anything you’re going through better. I know knowing about other people’s pain doesn’t ease yours, nor should it. I know you no doubt have heard the stories of people in harsher situations than either of us are in, and the uncaring cruelty of the world is probably one of the things that keeps you down.

    We all suffer differently, and other people’s pain does not ease our own, but we all suffer. And maybe that does make it a little less lonely. I hope to read more blogs from you in the future.

  69. James W
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:20 AM | Permalink

    Hi Pat,

    I feel you because I moved to a rural community almost three years ago and have been consistently drifting farther and farther away from the friends I made from the area before I moved.

    However, I would be remiss not to mention that I would gladly read The Fuck Song of J Fuckfred Prufuck any day.

  70. Raph
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:22 AM | Permalink

    I think its good to roll with the low times as much as the high. Otherwise we get trapped in behaving according to what other people would want. I’ve heard it said before that when you be yourself, you find out who your true friends are. Its a good way to filter out toxic people who don’t give a fuck about anything anyways.

    Try not to worry too much about circumstance. We’re all gonna be gone and forgotten eventually. Keep living your best life bud.

    Great to hear from you

  71. Maria Stahl
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:34 AM | Permalink

    I don’t think this has gone on too long. Jewish tradition holds that the intense mourning period takes a full year. I have found that to be true. I lost my dad about two and a half years ago and my mom just 4 months ago. Don’t expect too much of yourself. It’s not weird, it’s not pathological, it’s grief. It shows you loved. It sets a good example for your boys, that you feel these things so deeply.

  72. Chad Mead
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:39 AM | Permalink


    Three of my fours kids were born with birth defects that required major surgery at birth. My third, healthy girl, was hit by a car a couple of years ago, she’s fine now. Monday night, my oldest broke his foot, requiring weeks of recovery, my second oldest has developed a sunken chest that will require chest surgery next month.

    I don’t say this compete with you or to minimize your pain, but only to hopefully have some credibility when I encourage you to take heart. Things aren’t as bad as they seem. Things will turn out.

    It’s natural to feel bad as you describe, but it’s good to experience it quickly and then get out of it. Life is too beautiful to dwell on the valleys for too long. The peaks are all around us. Take stock and be well.



  73. Lexxa
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:50 AM | Permalink


  74. Matthew
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:55 AM | Permalink

    Just swinging by to tell you I love you and appreciate you. <3

  75. Drew Miller
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 11:59 AM | Permalink

    Do you need help moving your couch?

  76. Paavo
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:21 PM | Permalink

    Much love. The kind of love that doesn’t expire and isn’t used up.

  77. PJ Childress
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:22 PM | Permalink

    Reading this post hurt my heart, for you. I’ll not rabbit on and on about the congruences of your sorrow with mine, which are sadly significant (my friends are forgetting my name, my fam is down to 4, and my nickname is Ann Hedonia).

    But: I’m flashing on a little YouTube video Jenny Lawson made, a trailer for her book Furiously Happy; and recall being quite startled to see your dear shaggy face pop up in it. I was already crying, and seeing you and your sign made me cry more. Because how could you with your awesome accomplishments be among those lovely but broken people? Yet there you were, brave. And willing to show the world you, too, are broken.

    … And the five perfect words may elude you today, but you know they’re immanent, and they’ll wait. Maybe you can’t manage furiously happy now, either. So it goes. Your “tribe” is here, caring about you. See it, feel it in these responses.

    So love and be loved by your little ones, put one foot in front of the other. Balance will come again.

  78. Brandon
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:35 PM | Permalink

    I don’t have any words of wisdom for you. It seems that you’re going through a hard time, and you’ve said you have a lot of weight on your shoulders. I don’t know you, and I can only imagine what might be happening in your day-to-day grind. I can also imagine how I would feel if I were in your shoes. That weight you’re holding up is made from the expectations of fans, agents, publishers, all pressing down on you, demanding that you produce–feed the machine. And you probably don’t want to do it anymore. The only reason you haven’t released book 3 is because you haven’t finished it. And you haven’t finished it because you don’t want to. It’s evident: if you wanted to finish the book, you’d put all this other bullshit aside and write the book, or you’d just hand the 95% finished version you have now to editors and have them polish it and get it out the door. I don’t think the things that motivated you to write NOTW and whatever the 2nd book is called are working for you anymore. You’re obviously popular, rich, successful by any metric, and if I were you I’d want to enjoy some of that. You’re not hungry anymore. It’s the same reason GRRM doesn’t finish his book – it’s fucking hard, and he’s rich, and he’s got other things he’d rather do, and so what? He doesn’t owe us anything, and neither do you. If you want to take 5 years or 10 years and disappear and watch your kids grow up, do it! Maybe teach at the local university, or hell, even a high school, and just chill. If I were you, and I’m not, and this post is the height of hubris, I’d either get rid of all these other distractions — seriously, do you think people give a crap about a card game compared to book 3 — and knuckle down and finish the book so I could just be done with it already, or I’d take a formal sabbatical – announce that I’m burned out or bored or tired, and I’m taking a break, a la Scott Lynch. Nothing but 2 short stories from him in years, and that’s fine.

    I love your books; I’ve read them all multiple times, and they’re goddamned masterpieces, but they’re not the Bible or the Quran. Give yourself a break. Shit, if book 3 is giving you such a hard time, put it away, and write something totally new. That’d show all of us ungrateful fuckers.

    Wishing you the very best of luck,

  79. Yuj
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:42 PM | Permalink

    My heart breaks for the fact that the man that created a world for me to escape my own fear of dying is suffering from these same thoughts and fears but there’s nothing I can give back. Realizing that you will die is the scariest thing in the world, at least for me. There’s also some motivation in it if you look hard enough. I wish I could make you feel better or explain how completely understood you are by me. But at least I will let you know that if you ever feel like you don’t matter, you have helped this random Greek girl and given her a whole new life to experience through your work and words. You have passed through fire.

  80. Jessica Horsburgh
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:55 PM | Permalink

    Thank you for sharing Pat. Your post made me think of the song Satellite Call by Sara Bareilles. It’s simultaneously melancholy and hopeful.
    “This is so you’ll know the sound
    Of someone who loves you
    From the ground
    Tonight you’re not alone at all
    This is me sending out my
    Satellite call”

  81. Aoife Roantree
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:56 PM | Permalink

    Pat, when you wrote Auri in SROST, I knew that you understood this thing called depression. Of course that’s not quite what Auri is experiencing, but there were moments. My heart goes out to you. You are a kind man and a great writer. We love your work and we will always be here for you – don’t worry about long absences!

  82. Bob
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 12:58 PM | Permalink

    I check this blog weekly for any updates about book 3, but I was not expecting this. I have to admit as I was reading I was excited thinking “this is it. This is the reveal of the release date”. Though I never said anything, I am sorry I internally held it against you for not finishing the book yet. We don’t know how much pressure you are under or all of the things you are going through.

  83. Tony Velasco
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 1:14 PM | Permalink

    Hi Pat!
    Thank you for sharing with us. I understand you, when I was 11 years old I started using glasses. I felt dumb and the bulling was hard. But I think everything happens for a reason, and that reason is there to serve me. It makes you feel stronger when you accept it, but is a process.
    Yesterday I finished “The Wise Man’s Fear” for the fourth time. It always seems to me that is the first time I read it. I read the two books in 6 days, they always trap me ( I didn’t slept too much this days). I admire you so much. I’m eager too read the final book.

    I send you a warm greeting from Mexico.

  84. Posted August 9, 2018 at 1:47 PM | Permalink

    It has been my experience, and it may just be that I am spiritually poor, but only by traveling through the weariness of the world does one become wise. Your books have been a great blessing to me, adding seasoning to the hobo’s soup of the world. To me, there is no better reflection of who you are, Pat.

    The body falls away, time dissolves like candy (along with one’s teeth), and all the sweet things pass, the bitter ones too, but we tend to hold onto the bitter taste (despite we want nothing but for it to pass) and continually contrast it with the sweet so that we end up living a vicious cycle of sorrow and loss. I hope you’ll look inward, friend (I feel in spirit we are), to the soul that sparks such wonder and such creative splendor. That will never die and will always be there. It will always be sweet and never fail in the perceived bitterness of the brief and turbulent life of the world. Yes, life in the world has its moments of pleasure that we wish so fervently to persist, but all too often these seem to taunt as the painful continually returns on the tails of the happy, in a vicious cycle. But inside we all have an Ali Baba’s treasure-cave of happy delights that are continually reborn, sparkling and new, under our expectant gaze. Go there and not out into the world for those jewels that constantly uplift one’s heart. This is the same place your books come from, I would say.

  85. jei
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 1:48 PM | Permalink

    you are a very honest person.
    i dont have a good advice for you, in few words, I hope you find the harmony that is a bit hidden right now, but it’s still there, in your <3.

    the CAPTSHAs are a crazy thing!!!

  86. Nicole Dykstra
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 1:56 PM | Permalink

    Your experience and emotions are valid friend. We’re not afraid of you 😉

  87. Andy
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:05 PM | Permalink

    I’m here for the happy and the sad. One family.

  88. juion
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:09 PM | Permalink


    We’re always glad to hear from you. I might be flying up to GameHole Con this year, and it’ll be my first time in Wisconsin. And you being there is partly the reason I’m looking forward to it.

    Your books have been inspiration to so many. I guess, what I’m trying to say is… take care of yourself. You’re precious because you’re you, not because what you’ve done. Think of the thousands of people who go to An Evening with Patrick Rothfuss. It’s not because they want book 3, it’s because they like hearing from you.

    Be yourself, take care of yourself. You’ve saved lives by doing that. You saved mine with your talks of mental health and actually getting me to get help.

    So… thank you.

  89. Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:21 PM | Permalink

    Heya Pat-
    Like true friends and good gaming sessions, time in-between interactions often holds no power. So fear not, and do you.

    I know this is a drop in the bucket, and that we don’t know each other, but you’ve been a huge inspiration to me. I’ve written for ages, trying to break into the world of published authors. When I eventually do, I’m going to call you up and remind you how I made a shirt for your charity work and you gave me a set of pipes, and how we should hang out and help make the world better together.

    So, until then, keep making beautiful.

  90. Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:26 PM | Permalink

    So, last year, my Dad lost his big brother, and two months later his mom, then two weeks later, his father in law. He’s been in very much the same space that you are, and I think it’s because the framework in which you live has shifted. The framework is made of our people. This is who we call for heartache. This is who we text funny jokes to.

    When the framework shifts, we lose our balance, and it’s supposed to take some time to get it back. The general tone of the world isn’t helping with balance either.

    So, I do tarot readings for a living, and I can tell you a few things that are true. 1. There are more good guys than bad guys. 2. It’s going to be ok. 3. You’re not supposed to spring back after losing your people. This is supposed to be hard, and then it will get better.

    Grief is like waves. Sometimes they hit the back of your knees and knock you over. Sometimes they suffocate you. Sometimes, they’re around your ankles. The waves will come and go, and you’ll be ok.

    • Christine
      Posted August 14, 2018 at 9:37 PM | Permalink

      This was the best thing I’ve read on grief in a long long while. Thank you, Melissa.

  91. Jesse
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:29 PM | Permalink

    Thank you for letting us know about the card game. It looks like a great way to bring fun and interaction with people to our lives.

    It makes me sad to hear your reflections on life and the world around you. I remember my grandfather slowly losing his eyesight, he was a creator at heart making miniature oil paintings on self-build miniatures of merry-go-rounds built to scale. Having glasses everywhere in the house, car and even shed. I think he never liked it, but found ways.

    I hope you find yours again. Being lost can be adventurous, but also alone and frightening.

  92. Self rescuing princess
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:39 PM | Permalink

    I am dealing with the new need for eyeglasses, too. And waiting for a scan that might show a tumor that is almost certainly benign if it’s there at all, but fuck that feels bad and terrifying anyway. And pondering how shitty it will be if I die before I do even a fraction of the stuff I want to.

    So I feel you.

  93. Giulio
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:41 PM | Permalink

    “See? That’s some bummer shit right there. Who wants to read a blog about that?”
    Heck, this is not the “people who wants to read happy stuff from Patrick Rothfuss” blog, this is your blog and you should feel free to write whatever you want!

    That being said, the only thing I can do is thank you. You gave me something special, you’ve given me books that I will simple never get bored of reading and for that I thank you.

    p.s. I’m going through the fourth reading of The Name Of The Wind and I say HELLYEAH

  94. Julio
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:46 PM | Permalink

    Hi, Pat! I hope you can take some comfort in the fantastic group of kind people you have cultivated here. I’m moved by the level of compassion shown.

  95. Enrique Juarez
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:47 PM | Permalink

    Hey, my name is Enrique, it is going to be a little hard for to write this because it si not my language but i will try my best. Im not going to try to pretend that i understand what you feel because im not, but of course at my young age of 23 sometimes i feel sad and broken and i hope that you find the ways to feel better. I just want to say thanks because you give hope everyday that i don’t have to be a superhuman to write something beautiful, that i just have tu put my normal and mortal heart in the words i write. And I hope that knowing that your words gives hope, happiness to someone like me that lives in mexico. I don’t know if everything of this make sense but i love your work and i love the human and humble you are and i admire you for that. Finally i just want to say this: “it is okay to see dead in front of us because i think that moment is when we start to live”

  96. Sotiris
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:47 PM | Permalink

    Hi Mr Rothfuss,

    You probably won’t read this comment. Even if you do this comment probably won’t change the difficult times you are facing. But I am going to write it anyways.

    I too have faced the same dark feelings you are facing. I have been in constant tiredeness, I have been been facing creepling fears about my health and I have lost my mother.

    But after a year or so, I walked out of it. And one of the things that helped me push through the hell I was living, was your books, your stories and your words.

    SO thank ypu Mr Rothfuss for everything. Keep pushing through and know that if I managed to get out of it, you will too!

  97. Aris
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:49 PM | Permalink

    needing glasses is a bitter pill. I’ve had to start wearing them since 2016. and I’m only 27 now. it’s a weird stage of life where I want to feel young yet have growing concerns and responsibilities. I don’t have any children yet. but the pressure to have children is always there from family and friends and what have you. your mood reminds me of those cranky wizards. and you have my empathy. I do hope that no fledgling mage shows up at your door.

    I suppose raising children feels like that mentor and student relationship at times. I’ve helped Raise a few younger siblings and cousins. such is the way of the world when you have a coven of aunts 9 in total and all their names start with M. families and their customs…and their eccentricities have a way of trickling down through the generations.

    I still send people the blog post about the copper knife as a way to gently nudge them into the world of the kkc. and I hope for such a post in the future as a reminder that outside of a book, there are many places to find pretty words and the shaping thereof. forgive my grammar and the lack of proper punctuations. I’ve been in this county for a good long while. but this is one of those things that continues to elude me.

    I’ve found myself wanting quiet places, good drinks, many fine foods as I get older. but adapting to change is so strange and I fear how constant that unease has become in my life as of late. best wishes and barrels of love with a fine vintage to you Pat. you’ll always be the writer that got me to love reading again.

  98. Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:58 PM | Permalink

    Another reader here – after my husband died, nothing else helped me so much to cope as reading fantasy novels in bed in the evening with a glass of wine. Among all the many books I read, yours have especially stayed with me, and for that I am grateful.

    I’ve worn glasses all my life, but I do remember when my husband needed glasses for the first time after he turned 40. He was a violin maker and became very frustrated, when he could no longer reach the instrument to work on it, when he held it far enough away to see it clearly. Remembering how much he hated those glasses, I can thoroughly sympathize with your situation.

    Sympathy and solidarity from another “eldest” – thank you for your writing.

    Posted August 9, 2018 at 2:59 PM | Permalink

    Seriously dude, I think people would pay to read you write about paint drying. I know I would. Hope you feel better soon

  100. Josip Balaban
    Posted August 9, 2018 at 3:02 PM | Permalink

    Hey Pat,

    Its nice to hear from you. Never find yourself too busy that you cant find time to smile.


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