You, Sir, Are A Ray Of Sunshine.

Percy Jackson," Hermes Said, "because You Have Taken On The Curse Of Achilles, I Must Spare You. You Are In The Hands Of The Fates Now. But You Will Never Speak To Me Like That Again. You Have No Idea How Much I Have Sacrificed, How Much—" His Voice Broke, And He Shrank Back To Human Size. "my Son, My Greatest Pride . . . My Poor May . . ." He Sounded So Devastated I Didn't Know What To Say. One Minute He Was Ready To Vaporize Us. Now He Looked Like He Needed A Hug.

Her Freckles Were Orange, As If Somebody Had Spray-painted Her Face With Liquid Cheetos.

I'd Love To Tell You I Had Some Deep Revelation On My Way Down, That I Came To Terms With My Own Mortality, Laughed In The Face Of Death, Et Cetera. The Truth? My Only Thought Was: Aaaaggghhhhh!

I Am Committed To Writing Appropriate Books For The Middle Grades. This Means No Bad Language, No Gratuitous Or Explicit Violence, And No Sexual Content Beyond What You Might Find In A Pg-rated Movie – Expressions Of Who Likes Whom, Holding Hands, And Perhaps The Occasional Kiss. The Idea That We Should Treat Sexual Orientation Itself As An Adults-only Topic, However, Is Absurd. Non-heterosexual Children Exist. To Pretend They Do Not, To Fail To Recognize That They Have Needs For Support And Validation Like Any Child, Would Be Bad Teaching, Bad Writing, And Bad Citizenship.

Sometimes Mortals Can Be More Horrible Than Monsters.