Who's going to rob us? A crackhead crab? A jellyfish junkie?

Violence wounds the body and it wounds the soul. Of the predator. Of the prey. Of the mourners. Of collective humanity. It diminishes us all.

You'd be naive if you think you are going to retain any control once you option a character to TV.

Who's going to rob us? A crackhead crab? A jellyfish junkie?

Bones tell me the story of a person's life - how old they were, what their gender was, their ancestral background.

As a pirate, she once undressed a fencing instructor using only her sword!

I hated myself for needing him at such times, for craving his strength whenever I felt upset.