A plague has wiped out the 98% of the population that was tired of Hunger Games rip-offs

Whether you love the big White Male Writers, or you love to hate the big White Male Writers, you'll enjoy this book I made with @JasonAdamK! Pre-order it now: Amazon: amzn.to/2AKgN30 IndieBound: bit.ly/2ItOEBt Barnes & Noble: bit.ly/2pQS8aL

"Some people are worse than parody" and more lessons from five years of being AUTHOR In Your MFA. lithub.com/what-i-learned…

POV: you're in the arena fighting other Poors for the amusement of the Upper Class

This account was supposed to be a joke not a preview

I put my father's nunchucks in my pocket. You never know when you'll need to hunt for Pigadeens, or bring down a totalitarian government.

Anthem is mysterious, Ermias is sweet. It's like they have nothing in common, except they both love me and are super white.

Sela sneered, her braid flicking behind her like a snake. "Valentine Neverwoods," she sneered. "So you don't recognize your own sister."

I smooth my gray tunic, trying to look as presentable as possible before I meet the Overseer

The Elder gave a small smile. "The story, the full story is written here. It's called a Book." amazon.com/gp/product/044…

Only the Monied can afford medical treatment. The rest of us treat our wounds with bark and dried sap

Every day we must sent 100 letters to the Leaders to beg for treatment. They just laugh but at least sometimes they say they are "concerned"

Reason #216: I have a rebellion to fight. The Elders shouldn't have all of that power. x.com/DanaSchwartzzz…

I have been in the Woods for eleven days. Good thing armpit hair is a relic of the Before Time

His kiss tasted like coffee and rain and reckless youth, and also like mouth

In the future city of Trax, the wealthy can do whatever they want while the poor are forced to eat rats in the sewers.

"Yvva, stop that," Knox chided. "You don't need to practice yet. The Reckoning isn't for two weeks!"

Yvva attempted to smooth her long, messy brown hair. Her sister Skarlet's was somehow always glossy and perfect, but Yvva's hair had always been as wild as she was.

Yvva could hear the Wealthy at their Feast from her perch on the Hillside. She heard their peals of laughter, the clink of champagne glasses... What would it be like to be Wealthy?