How did you become blind, uh, Jeff is it?" Yeah, Jeff. Well, I looked directly at the sun, you know, the way they always tell you not to. If only I had listened.

Okay, if this is what falling in love feels like, someone please kill me now. (Not literally, overzealous readers.) But it was all too much - too much emotion, too much happiness, too much longing, perhaps too much ice cream.

I flipped down the visor so I could check myself in the mirror, and something small and heavy dropped into my lap. I froze, my breath stuck in my throat. What—? Gingerly, I looked down. It wasn’t a grenade. It was a key ring. One key was for this van. I looked at it blankly. “Well, that’ll simplify things,” Fang said.

We probably looked like starving orphan children. Hey! We were starving orphan children.

In my office in Florida I have, I think, 30 manuscript piles around the room. Some are screenplays or comic books or graphic novels. Some are almost done. Some I'm rewriting. If I'm working with a co-writer, they'll usually write the first draft. And then I write subsequent drafts.

I'm way hot," he muttered. "But I don't feel sick. Just — way hot." Fang

I'm very emotional. I do feel stuff, for better or worse.