I’d been to the British museum before. In fact I’ve been in more museums than I like to admit—it makes me sound like a total geek. [That’s Sadie in the background, yelling I am a total geek. Thanks, Sis.]

I think every writer struggles in some way with writers block. The trick is to plan out what you are going to say beforehand. I found out that if you make an outline you're much less likely to get blocked when you get into the middle of the story.

The last thing I wanted to do was blow up another school.

The cafe windows wrapped all the way around the observation floor, which gave us a beautiful panoramic view of the skeleton army that had come to kill us.

I wasn't aiming at the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.

Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay. You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem." "What Problem?" Piper asked. "She's been looking for one of our campers, who's been missing three days," Butch said. "She's going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he'd be here." "Who?" Jason asked. "Her boyfriend," Butch said, "A guy named Percy Jackson.

Zoe readied her arrows. Grover lifted his pipes. Thalia raised her shield and I noticed a tear running down her cheek. Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before.She had been cornered on Half- Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time she couldn't save us.