With great power... comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.
My name is Percy Jackson. I’m twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. Am I a troubled kid? Yeah. You could say that.
It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
I gave her my deluxe I’ll-Kill-You-Later stare.
A truly great artist has many talents.
Makes us appreciate blessing, not be greedy and mean and fat like Polyphemus.
Selling one’s book to Hollywood is rather like selling someone your house. After it’s sold, it isn’t yours anymore. They can paint it a different color, tear it down and build something new, or do anything they want.
I could always see myself being a teacher. I remember sitting in class as a kid, listening to the teacher and thinking, you know, I’m pretty sure I could explain that a little bit better.
Teachers and librarians are some of my favorite people, especially since I was a teacher myself. I love talking to them because they have wonderful ideas about how to share books, and especially about how to share my books with kids.
I try to craft books that are fun, that are sort of subversively educational so kids learn but they don’t really feel like they’re being lectured to, and I want kids to always finish one of my books and think, “That was great, where’s the next one?”
The most important thing whenever we’re connecting kids to books, is that we try to match the book to the kid and make sure that reading is a fun, rewarding experience outside the classroom.
I think every writer struggles in some way with writers block. The trick is to plan out what you are going to say beforehand. I found out that if you make an outline you’re much less likely to get blocked when you get into the middle of the story.
Oh, come on!’ Percy complained. ‘I get a little nosebleed and I wake up the entire earth? That’s not fair!
Hey, I’m a Poseidon kid,” he said. “I can’t drown. And neither can my pancakes.
He forced his fists to unclench. “Look, lady, we’re not going to go all Hunger Games on each other. Isn’t going to happen.
To my wonderful readers. Sorry about that apology for that last cliffhanger. I’ll try to avoid cliffhangers in this book. Well, except for maybe a few small ones... because I love you guys.
Then she did something so unexpected Nico would later think he dreamed it. She walked up to Nico, who was standing to one side in the shadows, as usual. She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently into the firelight. ‘We had one home,’ she said. ‘Now we have two.’ She gave Nico a big hug and the crowd roared with approval. For once, Nico didn’t feel like pulling away. He buried his face in Reyna’s shoulder and blinked the tears out of his eyes.
You can’t choose your parentage. But you can choose your legacy.
Catch that last episode of Doctor Who? Oh, right. You were trudging through the Pit of Eternal Damnation!
Just tell me, Percy, do you still have the birthday gift I gave you last summer?” I nodded and pulled out my camp necklace. It had a bead for every summer I’d been at Camp Half-Blood, but since last year I’d also kept a sand dollar on the cord. My father had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday. He’d told me I would know when to “spend it,” but so far I hadn’t figured out what he meant. All I knew that it didn’t fit the vending machines in the school cafeteria.