Don’t Stereotype, Jenks. Hapa Is An Equal-opportunity

Avoiding Me, Quen Downed A Swallow Of Wine. "trent Is A Fine Young Man," He Said, Watching The Remaining Wine Swirl. "yes... " I Drawled, Cautiously. "if You Can Call A Drug Lord And Outlawed-medicine Manufacturer A Fine Young Man.

I've Found That When I'm Having Trouble Solidifying A Character Or A Scene, That Music Will Often Free My Subconscious Just That Last Little Bit To Allow Me To Move Forward, And Often It's In A Direction That I Didn't Expect, But Is 100 Percent True To The Character.

I Thought Trent Should Get Over His Pixy Paranoia And Admit He Had An Eerie Attraction To Them, Like Every Other Pure-blood Elf I’d Met. So He Liked Pixies. I Liked Double-crunch Ice Cream, But You Didn’t See Me Avoiding It In The Grocery Store.

I Do So Like All-encompassing Words. Verb, Adjective, Noun. Yes, You Are Shitted.

I Have A Name,” I Grumped, My Stomach Pinching Me Harder. “yes, But It Has No Pizzazz. Ra-a-a-a-chel. Rach-e-e-e-eel,” He Said, Trying It Out In Different Ways. “no One Will Tremble In Terror At That. Oh My God!” He Said In A High Falsetto. “it’s Rachel! Run! Hide!