Vinegar: that's what fear smells like.

I hope to keep writing journalism as long as I write fiction; it's afforded me such amazing adventures and opportunities. It does take a lot of time, so it's hard to do both at once, but I try to do a big journalism piece every couple of years, and I'll hopefully continue with that.

What he needed was to find fifty more people like him, who had stopped being themselves without realizing it.

"See," Sasha muttered, eyeing the sun. 'It's mine."

The pause makes you think the song will end. And then the song isn't really over, so you're relieved. But then the song does actually end, because every song ends, obviously, and THAT. TIME. THE. END. IS. FOR. REAL.

It was the hat. He looked sweet in the hat. How could a man in a fuzzy blue hat have used human bones to pave his roads?

I'm always happy," Sasha said. "Sometimes I just forget.