Salt. Wound. Together At Last.

I'm The Last Of The Mad Ones.

Oh My God!" Said One Of The Ambers. "is This Not The Worst Trip Ever? Did You See The Snow?" She Was A Sharp One, This Amber. What Would She Notice Next? The Train? The Moon? The Hilarious Vagaries Of Human Existence? Her Own Head?

Writing Is One Of The Few Careers For Which You Essentially Train Yourself, The Other Two Major Ones Being Juggling And Pickpocketing.

I Knew It Was Beautiful, But Knowing Something Is Beautiful And Caring About It Are Two Very Different Things, And I Didn't Care.

It Was Like The Entire World Was Colluding To Make Me Feel Insane, And It Was Doing A Really Good Job.