One question," I said. "Did you tell me all that because you think I'm going to die?" "No," he said. "It's because you're doing something brave, and I felt I should too." "I'll take that as a yes," I said.

Writing is one of the few careers for which you essentially train yourself, the other two major ones being juggling and pickpocketing.

There is no normal. I've never met a normal person. The concept is flawed. It implies that there is only one way people are supposed to be, and that can't possible be true. Human experience is far too varied.

I could envision it all to clearly: Stuart or Debbie finding the dented door off its hinges, lying in the snow. "She came in, ravaged the boy, stole plastic bags, and ripped off the door in her escape," the police would say in the APB. "Probably making her way to bust her parents out of jail.

Her kung fu is that powerful.

Something about her suggested that her leisure activities included wrestling large woodland animals and banging bricks together.

She wasn't only gay, she was a gay elf.