"Well," he said, moving a little closer, "I write a column for one of those terrible chick magazines every month, but that's easy and mostly just to amuse myself." He shrugged and moved away for a moment, long enough to pull off his boots and carry them with him to set by the door. Walking in sand was best done barefoot. "I'm trying to write a children's story, but they're harder. It's a fine line between not talking down but not being overly developed."
Once they were out on the beach, he moved so she could get on his back again. "I've been playing a lot of music, actually. I wrote a song for Mom and Dad's wedding. Oh, Skadi, you should've gone. I think I cried the whole time."