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He was beginning to understand: You were treated special and, later, something horrible would be told to you.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Understand
Something
Would
Horrible
Treated
Later
Beginning
Told
Special

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Like a medical procedure,' Ruth said. 'Intricate surgery is needed to patch up the planet.
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She sat in her room on the couch my parents had given up on and worked on hardening herself. Take deep breaths and hold them. Try to stay still for longer and longer periods of time. Make yourself small and like a stone. Curl the edges of yourself up and fold them under where no one can see. ~pg 29, Susie's sister Lindsey dealing with grief.
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I stared at her black hair. It was shiny like the promises in magazines.
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He would find his Susie,inside his young son. Give that love to the living.
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Hey, Ocean Eyes,” my father said. “Where’d you go on us?
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You save yourself or you remain unsaved.
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The relationship with the words someone uses is more intimate and integrated than just a quick read and a blurb can ever be. This intimacy - the words on the page being sent back and forth from engaged editor to open author - is unique in my experience.
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You're not supposed to look back, you're supposed to keep going.
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There wasn't a lot of bullshit in my heaven.
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I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.
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I tried to take solace in Holiday, our dog. I missed him in a way I hadn't yet let myself miss my mother and father, my sister and brother. That way of missing would mean that I had accepted that I would never be with them again it might sound silly but I didn't believe it, would not believe it.
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I was trying to prove to them and to myself that I was still who I had always been. I was beautiful, if fat. I was smart, if loud. I was good, if ruined.
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but, he also said it because part of him wanted more of her, this cold woman who was not exactly cold, this rock who was not stone.
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Part of the creative process for me is an invitation for readers to follow their imagination.
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Tess was my first experience of a woman who had inhabited her weirdness, moved into the areas of herself that made her distinct from those around her, and learned how to display them proudly.
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In this deeply nuanced portrait of an American family, Bret Anthony Johnston fearlessly explores the truth behind a mythic happy ending. In Remember Me Like This, Johnston presents an incisive dismantling of an all-too-comforting fallacy: that in being found we are no longer lost.
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As she brought prospective buyers through, the realtor said it was an oil stain, but it was me, seeping out of the bag.
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At the tips of the feathers there is air and at their base: blood. I hold up bones I wish like broken glass they could court light....still I try to place these pieces back together, to set them firm, to make murdered girls live again.
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If I shut my eyes, I believed, I would disappear. To make it through, I had to be present the whole time.
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These things, she felt, were not to be passed around like disingenuous party favors. She kept an honor code with her journals and her poems. 'Inside, inside,' she would whisper quietly to herself when she felt the urge to tell.
Alice Sebold