I frowned. “You mean Set’s got, like, other evil gods on speed dial?

You have to read a lot so you know what good writing looks like and you get inspired. You have to write a lot because it's like a sport - you have to practice. And, also, you have to persevere. Don't give up. I got rejected on my first book, like, 14 times, but I just kept going. So believe in yourself and don't give up.

Marvelous,” she said. “Tell me about this tapestry.” Arachne’s lips curled over her mandibles. “Why do you care? You're about to die.” “Well, yes,” Annabeth said. “But the way you captured the light is amazing. Did you use real gold thread for the sunbeams?

As he fell toward the highway, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind: his body smashing against an SUV's windshield, some annoyed commuter trying to push him off with the wipers. "Stupid 16-year-old kid falling from the sky! I'm late!

Are you suggesting that the gods have trouble acting together, young lady?" Dionysus asked. Yes, Lord Dionysus." Mr. D nodded. "Just checking. You're right, of course. Carry on.

The waiter brought fresh-baked bread and cheese, a bottle of sparkling water for Annabeth, and a Coke with ice for me (because I’m a barbarian).

The weight of the sky dropped onto Atlas's back, almost smashing him flat until he managed to get to his knees, struggling to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it was too late. "Noooooo!" He bellowed so hard it shook the mountain. "Not again!" Atlas was trapped under his old burden.