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Scott Lynch

I was born in St. Paul, Minnesota on April 2, 1978, the first of three brothers. I've lived in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area my entire life; currently, just across the border in Wisconsin, about half an hour east of the Twin Cities.

The Lies of Locke Lamora, my first novel, was bought by Simon Spanton at Orion Books in August, 2004. Prior to that I had just about every job you usually see in this sort of author bio-- dishwasher, busboy, waiter, web designer, office manager, prep cook, and freelance writer. I trained in basic firefighting at Anoka Technical College in 2005, and became a volunteer firefighter in June of that year.

In 2007 The Lies of Locke Lamora was a World Fantasy Award finalist.

In 2008 I received the Sydney J. Bounds Best Newcomer Award from the British Fantasy Society.

In 2010, I lost a marriage but gained a cat, a charming ball of ego and fuzz known as Muse (Musicus Maximus Butthead Rex I).

My partner, the lovely and critically acclaimed SF/F writer Elizabeth Bear, lives in Massachusetts.


“You can't help being young, but it's past time that you stopped being stupid.”
Scott Lynch
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“The next person who tells me something like, "Squiggle-fuck the rightwise cock-swatter with a starboard jib," is going to get a knife to the throat.”
Scott Lynch
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“When you see the Crooked Warden," said Locke, twisting something in his hands, "tell him that Locke Lamora learns slowly, but he learns well. And when you see my friends, you tell them that there are more of you on the way.”
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“They kissed for the sort of endless moment that only exists between lovers whose lips are still new territory to one another.”
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“Maxilan, darling." Locke raised one eyebrow and smiled. "I knew you were driven, but I had no idea you could smoulder. Come, take me now! Jean won't mind; he'll avert his eyes like a gentleman.”
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“If you want to write a negative review, don't tickle me gently with your aesthetic displeasure about my work. Unleash the goddamn Kraken."[on Twitter, July 17, 2012]”
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“This is where you and I are headed.... Look for us in history books and you'll find us in the margins. Look for us in legends and you might just find us celebrated”
Scott Lynch
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“You're ten pints of crazy in a one-pint glass.”
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“Throwing blondes at Locke Lamora was not unlike throwing lettuce at sharks.”
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“The water caught the Falselight glimmer like layers of shifting, translucent mirrors and formed split-second works of art in the air, but men cursed it anyway, because it made their heads wet.”
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“I’m only doing this,” he said, “because I really love hiding in haunted Eldren buildings on dark and creepy nights.”“You’re a liar,” said Jean, slowly. “I’m only doing this because I’ve always wanted to see Bug get eaten by an Eldren ghost.”“Liar,” said Calo. “I’m only doing this because I fucking love hauling half a ton of bloody coins up out of a vault and packing them away on a cart.”“Liar!” Galdo chuckled. “I’m only doing this because while you’re all busy elsewhere, I’m going to go pawn all the furniture in the burrow at No-Hope Harza’s.”“You’re all liars,” said Locke as their eyes turned expectantly to him.“We’re only doing this because nobody else in Camorr is good enough to pull this off, and nobody else is dumb enough to get stuck doing it in the first place.”“Bastard!” They shouted in unison, forgetting their surroundings for a bare moment.”
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“So that makes us robbers of robbers," said Bug, "who pretend to be robbers working for a robber of other robbers.”
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“I hope a shark tries to suck your cock!”
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“Only one way to win when you're being chased by someone bigger and tougher than you. Turn straight around, punch their teeth out, and hope the gods are fond of you.”
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“We go now," said Locke, "or I leave you here to die. Understanding is a luxury; you don't get to have it. Sorry.”
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“Hope is what we all build lives for ourselves upon, is it not?”
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“Beer now,bitch later.”
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“I’m not beholden to the confirmation of your prejudices; to be perfectly frank, the prospect of confining the female characters in my story to placid, helpless secondary places in the narrative is so goddamn boring that I would rather not write at all.”
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“As for history, we are living in its ruins. And as for biographies, we are living with the consequences of all the decisions ever made in them. I tend not to read them for pleasure. It’s not unlike carefully scrutinizing the map when one has already reached the destination.”
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“If reassurances could dull pain, nobody would ever go to the trouble of pressing grapes.”
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“I've got kids that enjoy stealing. I've got kids that don't think about stealing one way or the other, and I've got kids that just tolerate stealing because they know they've got nothing else to do. But nobody--and I mean nobody--has ever been hungry for it like this boy. If he had a bloody gash across his throat and a physiker was trying to sew it up, Lamora would steal the needle and thread and die laughing. He...steals too much.”
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“To us — richer and cleverer than everyone else!”
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“I thought we were celebrating being richer and cleverer than everyone else!”
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“Just one question, you arrogant fucking cocksucker" said Locke. "I'll grant the Lamora part is easy to spot; the truth is, I didn't know about the apt translation when I took the name. I borrowed it from this old sausage dealer who was kind to me once, back in Catchfire before the plague. I just liked the way it sounded."But what the fuck" he said slowly, "ever gave you the idea that Locke was the first name I was actually born with?”
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“I can't wait to have words with the Gray King when this shit is all finished," Locke whispered. "There's a few things I want to ask him. Philosophical questions. Like, 'How does it feel to be dangled out a window by a rope tied around your balls, motherfucker?”
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“Any man can fart in a closed room and say that he commands the wind”
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“We’re a different sort of thief here, Lamora. Deception and misdirection are our tools. We don’t believe in hard work when a false face and a good line of bullshit can do so much more.”
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“There’s no freedom quite like the freedom of being constantly underestimated.”
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“Gods, I love this place," Locke said, drumming his fingers against his thighs. "Sometimes I think this whole city was put here simply because the gods must adore crime. Pickpockets rob the common folk, merchants rob anyone they can dupe, Capa Barsavi robs the robbers and the common folk, the lesser nobles rob nearly everyone, and Duke Nicovante occasionally runs off with his army and robs the shit out of Tal Verarr or Jerem, not to mention what he does to his own nobles and his common folk.”
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“Papa's in a bad way, Locke. I wanted to see you before you saw him - he has some...things he wishes to discuss with you. I want you to know that whatever he asks, I don't want you...for my sake...well, please, just agree. Please him, do you understand?""No garrista who loves life has ever tried to do otherwise. You think I'm inclined to walk in on a day like today and deliberately twist his breeches? If your father says 'bark like a dog' I say 'What breed, Your Honour?”
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“Cold walls do not a prison make, nor iron bands a bondsman.”
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“What kind of knife is this?” Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains’ inspection. “It’s all wrong. You couldn’t kill anyone with this.”“Well, not very easily, I’ll grant you that, my boy.” Chains guided Locke in the placement of the butter knife and assorted small dishes and bowls. “But when the quality get together to dine, it’s impolite to knock anybody off with anything but poison. That thing is for scooping butter, not slicing windpipes.”“This is a lot of trouble to go to just to eat.”“Well, in Shades’ Hill you may be able to eat cold bacon and dirt pies off one another’s asses for all your old master cares. But now you’re a Gentleman Bastard, emphasis on the Gentleman. You’re going to learn how to eat like this, and how to serve people whoeat like this.”
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“My name's Jean Tannen, and I'm the ambush.”
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“Advice," Doña Vorchenza chuckled. "Advice. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.”
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“... It's perfect! Locke would appreciate it.""Bug," Calo said, "Locke is our brother and our love for him knows no bounds. But the four most fatal words in the Therin language are 'Locke would appreciate it.'""Rivalled only by 'Locke taught me a new trick,'" added Galo."The only person who gets away with Locke Lamora games ...""... is Locke ...""... because we think the gods are saving him up for a really big death. Something with knives and hot irons ...""... and fifty thousand cheering spectators.”
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“There are only three people in life you can never fool--pawnbrokers, whores, and your mother. Since your mother's dead, I've taken her place. Hence, I'm bullshit-proof.”
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“I didn't promise you shit. My dead friends, on the other hand--I made them certain promises I intend to keep.”
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“Nice bird, asshole!”
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“That's a sweet piece," said Jean, briefly forgetting to be aggravated. "You didn't snatch that off a street.""No," said Locke, before taking another deep draught of the warm water in the decanter. "I got it from the neck of the governor's mistress.""You can't be serious.""In the governor's manor.""Of all the -" "In the governor's bed.""Damned lunatic!""With the governor sleeping next to her."The night quiet was broken by the high, distant trill of a whistle, the traditional swarming noise of city watches everywhere. Several other whistles joined in a few moments later."It is possible," said Locke with a sheepish grin, "that I have been slightly too bold.”
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“I think piracy is a bit like drinking. You want to stay out all night doing it, you pay the price the next day.”
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“Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend.""Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children.”
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“When you can't cheat the game, you'd best find a means to cheat the players.”
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“Know something? I'd lay even odds that between the people following us and the people hunting us, we've become this city's principle means of employment. Tal Verrar's entire economy is now based on fucking with us.”
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“You are beyond mad," said Locke after several moments of silent, furious thought. "Full-on barking madness is a state of rational bliss to which you may not aspire. Men living in gutters and drinking their own piss would shun your company. You are a prancing lunatic.”
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“I only steal because my dear old family needs the money to live!"Locke Lamora made this proclamation with his wine glass held high; he and the other Gentleman Bastards were seated at the old witchwood table. . . . The others began to jeer."Liar!" they chorused"I only steal because this wicked world won't let me work an honest trade!" Calo cried, hoisting his own glass."LIAR!""I only steal," said Jean, "because I've temporarily fallen in with bad company.""LIAR!"At last the ritual came to Bug; the boy raised his glass a bit shakily and yelled, "I only steal because it's heaps of fucking fun!""BASTARD!”
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“In the glass burrow beneath their feet, the flames began to rise. First the flames, and then the screams”
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“I don't have to beat you. I don't have to beat you, motherfucker. I just have to keep you here... until Jean shows up.”
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“I cut off his fingers to get him to talk, and when he'd confessed everything I wanted to hear, I had his fucking tongue cut out, and the stump cauterized."Everyone in the room stared at him."I called him an asshole, too," said Locke. "He didn't like that.”
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“Those prancing little pants-wetters come here to learn the colorful and gentlemanly art of fencing, with its many sporting limitations and its proscriptions against dishonorable engagements. You on the other hand, you are going to learn how to kill men with a sword.”
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“Someday, Locke Lamora,” he said, “someday, you’re going to fuck up so magnificently, so ambitiously, so overwhelmingly that the sky will light up and the moons will spin and the gods themselves will shit comets with glee. And I just hope I’m still around to see it.”“Oh please,” said Locke. “It’ll never happen.”
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