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Gravity was something you could beat all it took was hydrogen, hot air, or even a bit of rope. But being a girl was a miserable, never-ending struggle.

Scott Westerfeld

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Scott Westerfeld
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: May 5
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Dallas
Texas
Scott David Westerfeld
Even
Miserable
Something
Beat
Never
Beats
Air
Hydrogen
Took
Rope
Struggle
Gravity
Bits
Ending
Girl
Hot

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I used to be a pre-industrial writer: thousands of words in a spurt and then a few days off. But as I get older, I've switched to a mode best described as 'slow and steady wins the race.' Basically, I write during the same four hours every day, after breakfast and the all-important coffee, generally in the same room and wearing the same pajamas.
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The lie took form as she spoke, pulling on as many strands of truth as it could reach.
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I love my virginity to the apocalypse.
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He turned to face her again, his late-pretty composure crumbling. But you're... Pretty? Think again. She smiled. I'm Tally Youngbood. My mind is very ugly. And I'm taking your car.
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But they're already singing our praises! They are Americans. They toot their horns for anything.
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Maybe she still was a pretty-head, making up irrational stories about the empty forest. The longer she stayed alone out here, the more Tally understood why the Rusties and their predecessors had believed in invisible beings, praying to placate spirits as they trashed the natural world around them.
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With everything so perfect, reality seemed somehow fragile, as if the slightest interruption could imperil her pretty future... all of it felt as tenuous as a soap bubble, shivering and empty.
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So what are those balloons for? In case you fall off your hoverboard?' -- Tally to Peris
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I kissed him once, she whispered. Well done. What did he do? Um... Deryn sighed. He woke up.
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