To foreswear romantic love forever. To never grow up, never get married. To be maiden eternally.

Look," Percy continued, "I know I'm new here. I know you guys don't like to mention the massacre in the nineteen eighties-" "He mentioned it!" one of the ghosts whimpered.

I grabbed a pair of glowing red legs.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had the level of success I've had. I was just writing stories for my own sons.

I tried to imagine how things could get much worse. The gods were in the Midwest fighting a huge monster that had almost defeated them once before. Poseidon was under siege and losing a war against the sea Titan Oceanus. Kronos was still out there somewhere. Olympus was virtually undefended. The demigods of Camp Half-Blood were on our own with a spy in our midst. Oh, and according to the ancient prophecy, I was going to die when I turned sixteen—which happened to be in five days, the exact same time Typhon was supposed to hit New York. Almost forgot that.

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.

I don’t define myself by the boys who may or may not like me.