Part 3 BACK TO SCHOOL (THE NORMAL KIND)

I'm not a writer's writer. I'm not a craftsman. I could be, and that would be a one-book-a-year operation.

That'd be just what I need: a rash of car thefts across America, committed by dedicated readers.

Then I went to bed and cried into my pillow. I wasn't sad, not at all. It was just so beautiful to have an intense feeling and the right words at the same time. What are we but our stories?

He landed 10 feet below with a sickening crunch-i'm guessing his enhancements didn't allow him to bounce back up like a ball. we call that a design flaw.

Nudge threw her arms around my neck. 'I love you Max! I love all of us too!' Yeah, me too,' Said the Gasman. 'I don't care if we have our house, or a cliff ledge, or a cardboard box. Home is wherever we all are, together.

"You were designed to be very smart, Max," she told me. "We electrically stimulated your synaptic nerve endings while your brain was developing." "And yet I still can't program my DVD player," I said.