Everyone has an identity crisis when they are 16 or 17 years old.
I get a message from my dad. In the mood I’m in, I tear up to see his name in my inbox, and imagine him down the hall in bed, propped on pillows, emailing me. “Hon,Enjoyed our gelato date the other night. I just want to say I’m proud of you for a lot of...
We’d walk home together in the foggy summer night and I’d tell her about sex; the good stuff, like how it could be warm and exciting–it took you away–and the not-so-good things, like how once you showed someone that part of yourself, you had to trust them one thousand percent and anything could happen. Someone...
I don’t want to pretend like I’m some intellectual person who understands Flannery O’Connor.
And I don’t just mean that they change you. A lot of people can change you—the first kid who called you a name, the first teacher who said you were smart, the first person who crowned you best friend. It’s the change you remember, the firsts and what they meant, not really the people.
My first published book, ‘Story of a Girl’, was the fourth book I wrote.
It’s hard to say when my interest in writing began, or how. My mother read to my sister and me every night, and we always loved playing make-believe games. I had a well-primed imagination. I didn’t start thinking about writing as a serious pursuit, a career I could have, until after college.
My dad died, I write. almost a year ago. Car accident. My hand is shaking; my eyes sting and fill. I add Not his fault before pushing the notebook and pen back across the table, wiping a hand across my cheeks.As he reads, my impulse is to reach out, grab the notebook, run outside, dump...
I wonder how you’re supposed to know the exact moment when there’s no more hope.
My books have been translated into various languages and sold in other countries, but I never have any contact with the foreign publishers and am so disconnected from that process that it seems almost imaginary. With ‘How to Save a Life’, I worked closely with Usborne editors and have been involved in the publicity.
We write in ways that, we generally hope, reflect real life, or at least look familiar to humans. And in life, recurring themes are a recurring theme. We never quite conquer a pet vice or a relationship pattern or a communication habit. We’re haunted by our particular demons.
When the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.
I do have a little bit more confidence in – or at least familiarity with – my process. For example, when it feels like it’s going badly or that I’m lost, I know I’ll eventually find my way because I’ve been through it before. But writing itself is still hard.
*Story of a Girl By:Sara Zarr*Lexile:760 SRC:12 pts.*Personal Issues*Choice of getting a job to move out*Major Choice*In Process of making it happen*It effects her bother his girlfriend and their baby, because they will move out with her too.*Sometimes we need to take choices that will make your life easier and also others.
Forgetting isn’t enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and agian. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound.