He had been (Thinking? Praying?) It was all the same thing.

Writing is like being in a dream state or under self-directed hypnosis. It induces a state of recall that - while not perfect - is pretty spooky.

I try to create sympathy for my characters, then turn the monsters loose.

Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth wings, like rose-petals.

Sometimes when you're young, you have moments of such happiness, you think you're living on someplace magical, like Atlantis must have been. Then we grow up and our hearts break into two.

I started to submit when I was twelve, and obviously at that time they weren't good enough, and I suppose in my heart of hearts I knew it. But you have to start sooner or later, you have to dig in.

Humans were built to look back; that's why we have that swivel joint in our necks