Adolphus is not at his desk. That means he is somewhere in the Monstrumarium, has gone home for the day, or is dead.

Sometimes in my tent, late at night, I think I can hear the stars scraping against the sky.

It's hard to plan for what comes next when what comes next is not something you planned for.

Memories can bring comfort to the old and infirm, but memories can also be implacable foes, a malicious army of temporal ghosts forever pillaging the long-sought-after peace of our twilight years.

I was woefully ignorant in the social graces. I was being raised, after all, by Pellinore Warthrop.

Sci-Fi is the genre that explored both possibilities: the end of our existential crisis and the end of our existence. My novel, The 5th Wave, explores the latter scenario, because, frankly, I believe it represents the likeliest outcome of an extraterrestrial encounter. In short, if they're out there, we better hope they never find us.

How do you rid the Earth of humans? Rid the humans of their humanity.