And We Believe In His

The Great Thing About Writing For A Younger Audience Is That They Will Give It To You Straight With Their Responses. They'll Tell You Exactly What They Liked And Didn't Like, And When They're Enthusiastic, They're Unashamedly Enthusiastic. They'll Talk To You About Your Characters As If They Were Real People, Which Is Wonderful.

What’s That Poem Again?” Will, Who Had Been Twirling His Empty Teacup Around His Fingers, Stood Up Straight And Declaimed: “each Spake Words Of High Disdain, And Insult To His Heart’s Best Brother—” “oh, By The Angel, Will, Do Be Quiet,” Said Charlotte, Standing Up. “i Must Go And Write A Letter To Aloysius Starkweather That Drips Remorse And Pleading. I Don’t Need You Distracting Me.” And, Gathering Up Her Skirts, She Hurried From The Room. “no Appreciation For The Arts,” Will Murmured, Setting His Teacup Down.

Charlotte Slammed The Paper Down Onto Her Desk With An Exclamation Of Rage. “aloysius Starkweather Is The Most Stubborn, Hypocritical, Obstinate, Degenerate—” She Broke Off, Clearly Fighting For Control Of Her Temper. Tessa Had Never Seen Charlotte’s Mouth So Firmly Set Into A Hard Line. “would You Like A Thesaurus?” Will Inquired. “you Seem To Be Running Out Of Words.

In All The World, You Are What I Love The Most.

My Name Is Sabastian. I Had A Father, But He Is Dead. I Had A Mother, But She Is Dead To Me. I Have A Brother, And I Will Bind Him To Me. I Have A Sister, And I Will Teach Her To Love Me. My Name Is Sabastain, And I Am Going To Burn Down The World