A Patient, Methodical Sort Of Madman. The

Time Was Like The Rain, Glittering As It Fell, Changing The World, But Something That Could Also Be Taken For Granted. Until You Love A Mortal. Then Time Became Gold In A Miser's Hands, Every Bright Year Counted Out Carefully, Infinitely Precious, And Each One Slipping Through You Fingers. Cassandra Clare: What Really Happened In Peru

Dear Me," Said Will, And He Took Another Bite Of His Apple. "is It Because I'm Better-looking Than You?

A Lot Of People Feel Like Urban Fantasy Is A Shortcut That Gets You Around World-building, Because It's Set "in The Real World." But It Doesn't Really Work That Way, As I Found Out. You Have To Come Up With Just As Consistent An Internal Cosmology And Magic System As You Would If You Were Writing High Fantasy.

But Maybe You Never Really Had Someone, She Thought Now. Maybe, No Matter How Much You Loved Them, They Could Slip Through Your Fingers Like Water, And There Was Nothing You Could Do About It.

Declarations Of Love Amuse Me. Especially When Unrequited.