I found that the only way I could control this sorrow was not to think of [it] at all, which was almost as painful as the loss itself.

What I write, if you have to label it, is crossover, and I think that much of the stuff that is called children's or YA is in fact crossover and is equally valid for anyone who likes to read fantasy.

One doesn't generally look into mirrors when one is especially angry; one has better things to do, like pace the floor or throw things.

But it was equally clear to her that this was her fate, that she had called its name and it had come to her, and she could do nothing now but own it.

There are things you don't want to know you can do

I don't differentiate in the way that the genre creators want differentiation to be made. I feel that I have never written children's or YA stories particularly.

Sungold blew impatiently and began to dig a hole with one foot. She booted his elbow with her toe and he stopped, but after a moment he lowered his head and blew again, harder, and she could feel him shifting his weight, considering if she might let him dig just a small hole.