We read books and admire the authors that write them, so strongly, so fiercely, that in our heads the magic of celebrity takes over and makes them out to be otherworldly beings. But as one of my good friends said to me while I was mid-panic attack that morning, “Holly Black has two hands and two feet. She is a person like you and me.”
Although, when Holly walked into the room I was beginning to doubt my friend. With her turquoise pixie-cut hair and plum stained lips, Mrs Black looked as if she could have stepped right out of one of her books. A woman made of ink and pages and magic.
Straight away Holly asked, “Are you okay?”
Whoops. My anxiety was showing. Better tuck that back in Adelise.
“I’m just nervous,”…