Rob Thurman
Rob Thurman
Robyn Thurman, writing under the name Rob Thurman, is a New York Times Best Selling American novelist. To date, she has written three series and two short stories, totaling 11 books, and has been published in the US, UK, Germany, and Japan...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
CountryUnited States of America
genuinely
Don't accept what's out there because that is all that's out there. Look for the new and unusual. Seek out what you genuinely want to read and don't settle.
hear plot
I need it all: in-depth characterization, fantastic/warped world building, a plot that could out-race Secretariat, and a 'voice.' I need to hear a uniqueness in the author's voice.
compared inevitably love though urban
I love Urban Fantasy, even though I'm inevitably compared to 'Supernatural,' only a little more edgy.
kicking monsters pull reach
Writing monsters is fun, and it's easy. When I want one, I just reach under the bed and pull it out, kicking and screaming.
koalas arguing breaths
Pooh hater,' I muttered under my breath. 'Winnie-the-Pooh was not a koala--why am I even arguing about this with you?
boys pants looks
Look at the ex-demon with his big boy pants on now.
clothes maids sock
Pick up your clothes. I am not your maid. How do I know this? A maid cannot kill you with a tube sock. I can.
brother past debt
I am your brother. I was supposed to be your brother before either of us was born. Karmic debt. It appears I was Vlad the Impaler or Genghis Khan in a past life.
moon land names
It is now. It is always now. Now is good. Now could be the best. My name is Catcher. My name was Catcher. My name...my name... I am... I am lost, I am found and then I am free and I am happy. When I jump over that edge, someone leaps with me, shoulder to shoulder. I smell kinship on him. Kinship is all. I'm not alone. Never alone. I land, earth below me, moon above. I am wolf. We are pack. And that is all I need.
stupid people died
People--stupid when they lived; potentially stupid when they died.
world this-world blanket
We all have our security blankets in this world. Some are just sharper than others.
distance sound moral
I raised another shot. "That sound you hear is the heads of moral conservatives spontaneously exploding in the distance.
cake either-or
They don't have to choose either/or. They can have their cake and mutilate it too.
fall hands wind
Fall leaves are brilliant with gold and red. You can cup them in your hand and wonder at them, be amazed at their uniqueness and glory. But eventually they are gone, brown, crumbling, scattered on the wind. But the tree remains. The tree is what is important. The tree lives on. That was a difficult knowledge to bear, and an even more difficult life to live. Of course, being the leaf wasn't exactly desirable either.