“I used to think that English-speaking who conveniently look, dress, and act human only turned up in lazy science fiction. But as Carly and Frampton dematerialized, I became grimly aware of how well they'd also fit into a psychotic hallucination.”

“I looked at Judy as calmly as I could. "Music and movie piracy..." I slipped into a dramatic pause as I desperately tried to come up with some idea, any idea. I scanned the room for inspiration, briefly glimpsed Randy-- I had my answer. "...are terrorism.”

“Clippy got that pervert-on-the-playground look again..”

“There was no point dreaming; the leaflet was nothing more than a glass slipper handed to the ugly sister. I would never fit in there even if they'd let me go, which was a fairy tale in itself.”

“I've never met someone who died.I mean someone who could actually talk to me about it.Was it all bright lights and Mormon Tabernacle Choir music?" She smiled in spite of her fear.She'd used this tactic before with victims in their first stages of shock to calm them down until help could get there."Well,I can't really be sure but I think I remember hearing Queen's 'Another One Bites The Dust',"she quipped.He snorted."Well, at least it wasn't ACDC's 'Highway to Hell'.”

“After several visits where I refused to speak, this psychiatrist asked me if I would at least agree to stop doing whatever it was I was doing that was bothering my parents so much. I agreed, knowing fully that I could do no such thing, I was not in control, was powerless, but agreeing to behave myself was my ticket to freedom. I never saw him again. He told my parents I would be better now, but never admitted defeat. How would it look, after all, if he was bested by a prepubescent girl? Looking back, I really feel like I refused to speak to him because I was afraid of what I might say if I opened my mouth or answered his questions without weeks of forethought put into my answers. I was afraid what I said would go straight back to my parents, and I am certain that is what would have happened. There is no way I would have been strong enough for that. And there is no way they would have handled it well.”

“Renée and I met at a bar called the Eastern Standard in Charlottesville, Virginia. I had just moved there to study English in grad school. Renée was a fiction writer in the MFA program. I was sitting with my poet friend Chris in a table in the back, when I fell under the spell of Renée’s bourbon-baked voice. The bartender put on Big Star’s Radio City. Renée was the only other person in the room who perked up. We started talking about how much we loved Big Star. It turned out we had the same favorite Big Star song – the acoustic ballad Thirteen. She’d never heard their third album, Sister Lovers. So naturally, I told her the same thing I’d told every other woman I’d ever fallen for: “I’ll make you a tape!”