Everyone knows that wizards are pigheaded and come to bad ends.

We are sitting on our honeymoon bed in the honeymoon suite. We are in a state of honeymoon, in our honey month. These words are so sweet: honey, moon. This bed is so big, we could live on it. We have been happily marooned -- honey marooned -- on this bed for days.

I spend a lot of time loathing the sentences that I put down on the page. Once I'm past that phase, it doesn't really matter what the routine is (coffee shop, someone else's house, my dining room table), I'm pretty fast. I go back to the start of whatever I'm working on, every half hour or so, and revise my way back to where I left off. I have my headphones on, I'm checking email, I look at Twitter and Tumblr, and drink a lot of coffee. I need a lot of distraction to work.

I think that we want to be led slightly astray when we're being told a story. Just a little wrong footed.

Our eyes are always blind when they view the future.

When I'm up for an award, there are usually two or three other things on the ballot that I like better than my own fiction.

Whether or not this story has a happy ending depends, of course, on who is reading it. Whether you are a wolf or a girl.