I NEVER PLANNED to write a sequel to Hidden Talents. Yet, somehow, I ended up writing two ofthem. Let me explain. For a long time, I resisted writing a sequel. I felt I had told Martin’s story, andthere was nothing left to say about him. But readers kept asking when I was going to write a sequel.Everyone had a favorite character, and wanted to know what happened to him after Edgeview.Eventually, I decided to give it a try. I wrote a book about Martin’s first year in high school. It hadsome great scenes. There was a lot of humor, along with some wonderful characters. But the book, asa whole, just didn’t work.There were various problems with it. Perhaps the greatest problem was that I was worried itwouldn’t be as good as the original. I was afraid I’d disappoint my readers, and far too aware thatHidden Talents had earned a place on a lot of recommended-reading lists. I felt as if I had a legion ofcritics looking over my shoulder. This is not a productive situation.The clock was ticking. The book was scheduled for 2004. But that window came and went. Thefolks at Tor were wonderfully patient, but I felt I was letting them down. In November of 2004, I hada long talk with my new editor, Susan Chang, who’d been a delight to work with on my storycollection, Invasion of the Road Weenies. Inspired by this, and confident that Susan wouldn’t let medig too deep a hole for myself without tossing me some sort of ladder, I decided that the best solutionmight be to start from scratch. I set aside Martin’s story, though I may take another shot at it some day.But I still didn’t know what to write about.Whenever I was asked which of the psi five was my favorite, I always picked Trash. (If I wasfeeling particularly evil that day, I’d add, “Because he has the power to stop your heart.”) The more Ithought about him, the more I knew it was his story I wanted to tell. A long time ago, while listeningto music that was way too loud and way too modern, I’d written a single dizzying scene—no morethan a page or two—with someone escaping from a research lab. It was just an exercise. But when Istumbled across that scene one day, I knew it was the seed from which Trash’s story would grow.What if Trash woke up in a research lab? It was too powerful an idea to resist. I tossed the scene,but kept the concept.So that’s the story I decided to tell. During the process of writing it, I had a ton of support from mywife, Joelle, and my daughter, Alison. I also had the luxury of being able to get feedback from mygood friend Doug Baldwin.As it became obvious to me that this book was very different from Hidden Talents in many ways, Imade one other crucial decision. I needed to completely forget about reading lists, expectations,inevitable comparisons, and all of that baggage, and just write the sort of book I love to read. It wastime to recapture the solid joy of crafting a rollicking adventure. Time to return to my roots. So I gaveit my best shot. I hope you enjoyed the ride.
[...]... stared at him, as if startled by the sudden silence “It’s okay, pooch,” he told it He sighed, checked the dry grass around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally set it on fire, then played a sad song nearly lost among all the others Dominic “Lucky” Calabrizi only noticed it because it was different More urgent More connected, somehow, to his life Not hollow and masked by the medicated numbness that... According to her name tag, she was Monica, and she was happy to help me with all my banking needs “Thanks.” I felt a twinge of guilt, but it was washed away by the thought of those brushes And a big tube of titanium white oil paint Besides, it was sort of true that I’d lost the card At least, I’d lost control of it “I’ll be right back.” She walked over to a file cabinet and pulled out a sheet of paper, then... moment, then slid the money out of the vault and down the corridor to the lobby It was so easy I moved the bills along the side of the room, right where the wall met the floor Nobody noticed The customers in line were all staring straight ahead The tellers were all busy with the customers Once the money was near me, I moved it over by my feet and up my leg, right into my hand Then I jammed the stack in... if I was having trouble finding him Keeping my eyelids half shut, I scanned him for clues His clothes didn’t tell me anything White shirt Blue tie Dark blue jacket with gold buttons Gray pants held up by a thin black belt Polished black shoes One of his shoes smiled at me, but I was beginning to learn what to ignore Shoes couldn’t smile His hair was cut very short His face had the sort of lines that... wrist again Instead, he scooped up the marble and the target, and put them away “Get some rest, my little puppet Your real training is about to begin.” Humming, he pressed his palm against a metal plate by the door The bolt slid open and he left the room I inched back along the mattress until I was wedged in the corner and hugged my knees tight against my chest, trying to vanish inside myself This can’t... there, among the bullies and the stink of despair The stink of despair? Fancy words for a kid who was recently hallucinating gorillas I realized my mind was working better Why wasn’t I totally numbed by the drugs? Bowdler had said something about me getting too high a dose That didn’t explain how I felt … Maybe this time they’d given me too low a dose It didn’t matter why I was coming out of the fog... powers, and a clear head, it would be easy to slip out of here If I could trust my powers I’d had a hard time moving the marble Maybe the medicine had something to do with that, or I’d been distracted by the flood of memories Or maybe Bowdler just shook me up so much I couldn’t think straight when he was around I looked at the chair That would be a good test As I was about to slide it across the room,... right now Someone else was shouting, much closer Too close, and far too familiar “Are you listening to me?” his father yelled Martin turned his attention back to his screaming parent “Sure It’s my hobby I love hearing you shout I’m happy any time I can see your tonsils Just like you’re happy when your boss yells at you for messing up.” I gotta get out of here, he thought as the angry lecture resumed... made him look smart Laughing made my head spin, so I closed my eyes He was gone when I woke up The walls were still rippling They always rippled Sometimes, they hummed movie music They’d been painted by Vincent Van Gogh A fuzzy man wearing a vanilla coat came in through the door and gave me a sandwich Grilled cheese Gorrrilllad cheese The dark and light-brown patterns looked like George Washington... needed to get rid of him without raising any alarms I had an idea, but my timing needed to be perfect That wouldn’t be easy, since I still felt like someone had whacked my head a couple times with a two -by- four As the guy stepped toward me, I pushed his toe down just the slightest bit so it caught the floor It worked When he stumbled forward, I tugged at the tray Again, just the slightest bit It all had