The locality is made up of variously sized space junk and habs, and many of the smaller communities are actively at each other’s throats. Fergus’s interventions end up upsetting the balance, and everything goes spectacularly to hell. There’s weird (and terrifying) aliens, jury-rigged ...
“Probably in back, huh?” the goat-boy asked. But he wasn’t speaking to Ryan, he was looking over his shoulder at a guy coming up behind him. A twink so mind-blowingly beautiful his pores radiated the promise of an incomparable sexual experience. So much so that even under the circu...
Dramatically, the situation should have taken time to build — over the years since my friend’s death, perhaps — so the reader could have felt clever for figuring out why the throat problem happened. Maybe even anticipated it. How much better would it have been, in storytelling terms, if...
I'm the goat around here! . . . You're all against me! . . . And you worst of all! That's good of you, Peter. But your room's too small . . . even for you. I have a much better idea. I'll come in here with you and Mother, and Margot can take Peter's room and ...
Pops said to me of the Fallacy, “Never fall for it, kid.” He pointed at one old goat doing his own thing,“See. Mind your own cards. You must learn to trust Instinct.” Oi! Go ahead, flip a Fair Coin, a full score of times—and you tell me, nu? Did’ya fall for it?
Feeling both revolutionary levels of resentment rising off the rest of the passengers and my throat constricting from the cologne fumes, I knew my time had come. I leapt to my feet. “She can have my seat! I don’t mind coming back for my carry-on.” The woman had plopped herself int...
“She cleared her throat twice next to Eliot’s sweater in Chapter 3!” I hate to admit it, but personal quirks and background dissimilarities can be overdone; a protagonist with 137 pet peeves is probably going to annoy a reader more than one with 13. But now that I’ve gotten you ...