And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.

When I write something that would have made me laugh as a 10-year-old, or would have scared me or would have excited me, I know I'm onto something.

Hippo in a skirt: this was a comic reference to one of Solomon's principal wives, the one from Moab. Childish? Yes. But in the days before printing we had limited opportunities for satire.

Pardon me, Highness, a women waits whithout." "Whithout what?

Getting that first draft out is a horribly hard grind, but that (perversely) is where the joy of it lies.

Watch where you leave your victims! I stubbed my toe on that.

Listen," I began, "this is an established,traditional form that-" "Traditional nothing.Where are your clothes?" "Clothes?" I said weakly. "I don't normally bother with them in this guise." "Well,you could put on a pair of shorts,at least.Your not decent." "I'm not sure they'd go with the wings..." The demon frowend,and blinked."Hold on,enough of this." "Lenderhosen would. They'd compliment the leather.