Well . . . Sure Good To

There!" Mars Finished Writing And Threw The Scroll At Octavian. "a Prophecy. You Can Add It To Your Books, Engrave It On The Floor, Whatever." Octavian Read The Scroll. "this Says, 'go To Alaska. Find Thanatos And Free Him. Come Back By Sundown On June Twenty-fourth Or Die'." "yes," Mars Said. "is That Not Clear?" "well, My Lord...usually Prophecies Are Unclear. They're Wrapped In Riddles. They Rhyme, And..." Mars Casually Popped Another Grenade Off His Belt. "yes?" "the Prophecy Is Clear!" Octavian Announced. "a Quest!

Stop!" Narcissus Got To His Feet. "this Is Not Right! This Person Is Obviously Not Awesome, So He Must Be..." He Struggled For The Right Words. It Had Probably Been A Long Time Since He'd Talked About Anything Other Than Himself. "he Must Be Tricking Us." Apparently Narcissus Wasn't Completely Stupid.

The Death Mist Is Not For Helping!" Akhlys Shrieked. "it Shrouds Mortals In Misery As Their Souls Pass Into The Underworld. It Is The Very Breath Of Tartarus, Of Death, Of Despair!" "awesome," Percy Said. "could We Get Two Orders Of That To Go?

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.

I Can See Hope Inside It." Rachel Ran Her Fingers Over The Ceramic Designs. "so Fragile.