An Idea Is Like A Cold Germ:

I Think The Best Stories Always End Up Being About The People Rather Than The Event, Which Is To Say Character-driven.

Rage-the Biggest, Truest Rage Of Her Adult Life-had Invaded Her Like A Fever, But It Wasn't Like Any Fever She Had Known Previously. It Circulated Like Weird Serum, Cold On The Right Side Of Her Body, Then Hot On The Left, Where Her Heart Was. It Seemed To Come Nowhere Near Her Head, Which Remained Clear.

Kids, Fiction Is The Truth Inside The Lie, And The Truth Of This Fiction Is Simple Enough: The Magic Exists.

It Was Really Amazing The Number Of Hard Hits From Which A Mind Could Recover.

No Matter How Many Times You Shake It The Last Drop Always Ends Up In Your Pants