Thoughts of the girl crashed around his mind, made him remember the connection he felt. A sadness washed over him, as if he missed her, wanted to see her. That doesn’t make sense, he thought. I don’t even know her name.
She and Thomas had helped construct the Maze; at the same time she’d exerted a lot of effort to build a wall holding back her emotions.
I think Judy Blume, Stephen King, and Dean Koontz are the three authors responsible for my being where I am today. I owe them a lot.
I’m inspired by almost everything I come across in life, and one way or another they find themselves sneaking into my stories.
Down the road a bit, I would like to write a couple of stand-alone adult novels, especially in the horror genre. I’ve got lots of things up my sleeve.
I’ve always been fascinated by quantum physics and the possibility of alternate realities.
I’ve always had high ambitions and aspirations.
I really love middle-grade. Middle-grade books have a little more of a magical, light-hearted feel. You can be a little bit more quirky, you can have a little more humor. It doesn’t get so dark and deep.
In my early writing, all of my characters were exactly the same person. They all spoke the same, made the same types of jokes, reacted the same, etc. I think they were all just me in disguise.
To practice – write each and every day if possible – then try to attend professional writer’s conferences where you can learn your craft, get to know fellow writers, and meet editors and agents.
Things are really weird around here, and most of us don’t know everything. Half of everything.
Frozen by fear. Not able to move. Your mind screaming.
I don’t think anything’s more rewarding than hearing that you’ve helped someone gain a love of reading.
Your demons are always with you, Skale answered. His voice seemed even raspier than the day before. Don’t you understand that by now? Always with you, impossible to escape. But you never can guess how they might manifest themselves.
I ought to come up there and break your shuck nose.
I’d love to see that rat nose smashed!
Good try, ya bugging shank. The Gathering elects Runners, and if you think I’m tough, they’d laugh in your face.
I’m gonnna break your faces!
What was the point of even having a conversation when words couldn’t be trusted?
It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.