You,” I Said, “are Sweet Music In

In My Opinion If You Have A Secret Compartment In Your Lute Case And Don't Use It To Hide Things, There Is Something Terribly, Terribly Wrong With You.

Stand Alone Books Are Nice Because They Have Everything All In One Tidy Little Package. Neverwhere Was Awesome Because You Get Action, Adventure, Character Development, The Exploration Of A Strange World, Plus Resolution Of All The Problems And Mysteries At The End. No Lines No Waiting. That's Very Satisfying. Multi-volume Stories Are Satisfying Too, Just In A Different Way.

If You're An Actor, You Know People Are Going To Recognize You In A Restaurant. If You're A Rock Star, You Know People Are Going To Stop You On The Street And Ask You For Your Autograph. But As An Author? That's Not Something I Was Ready For.

She Reached Up And Lay Her Hand On My Cheek. "you Have The Sweetest Face," She Said, Looking At Me Dreamily. "it's Like The Perfect Kitchen." I Fought Not To Smile. This Was The Delirium. She'd Fade In And Out Of It Before The Profound Exhaustion Dragged Her Down Into Unconsciousness. If You See Someone Spouting Nonsense To Themselves In An Alleyway In Tarbean, Odds Are They're Not Actually Crazy, Just A Sweet-eater Deranged By Too Much Denner. "a Kitchen?" "yes," She Said. "everything Matches And The Sugar Bowl Is Right Where It Should Be.

I Walked Across The Polished Marble Floor And Sat On A Red Velvet Lounging Couch. I Idly Wondered How Exactly One Was Supposed To Lounge. I Couldn't Remember Ever Doing It Myself. After A Moment's Consideration, I Decided Lounging Was Probably Similar To Relaxing, But With More Money In Your Pocket.