I Gave Her My Deluxe I'll-kill-you-later Stare.

I Tell Aspiring Writers That You Have To Find What You Must Write. When You Find It, You Will Know, Because The Subject Matter Won’t Let You Go. It’s Not Enough To Write Simply Because You Think It Would Be Neat To Be Published. You Have To Be Compelled To Write. If You’re Not, Nothing Else That You Do Matters.

The Meeting Was Like A War Council With Donuts. Then Again, Back At Camp Half-blood They Used To Have Their Most Serious Discussions Around The Ping-pong Table In The Rec Room With Crackers And Cheez Whiz, So Percy Felt Right At Home.

Suddenly His Expression Turned To Alarm. He Sprinted Toward Us. For A Moment I Had An Absurd Vision Of Myself On The Cover Of One Of Gran’s Old Romance Novels, Where The Damsel Wilts Into The Arms Of One Half-dressed Beefy Guy While Another Stands By,casting Her Longing Looks. Oh, The Horrible Choices A Girl Must Make! I Wished I’d Had A Moment To Clean Up. I Was Still Covered In Dried River Muck, Twine, And Grass, Like I’d Been Tarred And Feathered. Then Anubis Pushed Past Me And Gripped Walt’s Shoulders. Well…that Was Unexpected.

Afterward, I Had The Last Laugh. I Made An Air Bubble At The Bottom Of The Lake. Our Friends Kept Waiting For Us To Come Up, But Hey-when You Are The Son Of Poseidon, You Don't Have To Hurry. And It Was Pretty Much The Best Underwater Kiss Of All Time.

Her Hair Is Smoldering. Her Face Was Smudged With Soot. She Had A Cut On Her Arms, Her Dress Was Torn, And She Was Missing A Boot. Beautiful.