If I’m not careful, I’m going to get a reputation as a troublemaker, which isn’t what I intend at all. I really just care about my novels about biblical prophets standing against the hungry dead and my stories of naked people competing on tyrannosaurback aboard orbital space colosseums. But I get so excited to have people to nerd out with about history and language. Then inevitably some pundit or politician or false prophet says something absolutely atrocious, my brain responds, “That’s not what it says in the text,” and then the teacher in me wakes up. If there are two things I can’t abide, they are tyrannosaurs without feathers and people who wrap up their avarice, bigotry, or fear in a coat made of scattered, out-of-context biblical verses and then have the audacity to strut about in it, as if the Word is a showy uniform you wear for your convenience rather than a flame blazing in your heart.