Our camels plodded along. Katrina tried to kiss, or possibly spit on Hindenburg, and Hindenburg farted in response. I found this a depressing commentary on boy-girl relationships.

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

Sometimes you have to lose a piece to win a game.

Good luck, boss. Don't let'em turn you into horse meat! (Blackjack)

Would Grandmother scold him? Would she say, “Frank! Thank the gods, you've come. I'm surrounded by monsters.” More likely she'd scold him, or mistake them for intruders and chase them off with a frying pan.

I left him in his wheelchair, staring sadly into the fireplace. I wondered how many times he’d sat here, waiting for heroes that never came back.

I get letters from college kids who have read Percy Jackson when they were younger who tell me, 'I just passed my Classics exam.' The books are accurate enough that they can serve as a gateway to Homer and Virgil.