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Please don't let Daddy die Susie, he whispered. I need him.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Susie
Whispered
Daddy
Please
Dies
Need
Needs

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I was the girl he had chosen to kiss. He wanted, somehow to set me free. He didn't want to burn my photo or toss it away, but he didn't want to look at me anymore, either.
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He had a moment of clarity about how life should be lived: not as a child or as a woman. They were the two worst things to be.
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Every day a question mark.
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One thing about failing repeatedly: If you're still doing it after you've failed that much, you really mean it.
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But I know I would not go out. I had taken this time to fall in love instead — in love with the sort of helplessness I had not felt in death — the helplessness of being alive, the dark bright pity of being human — feeling as you went, groping in corners and opening your arms to light - all of it part of navigating the unknown.
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After telling the hard facts to anyone from lover to friend, I have changed in their eyes. Often it is awe or admiration, sometimes it is repulsion, once or twice it has been fury hurled directly at me for reasons I remain unsure of.
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The earth has a mouth?” Buckley asked. A big round mouth but with no lips,” my father said. Jack,” my mother said, laughing, “stop it. Do you know I caught him outside growling at the snapdragons?
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What did dead mean, Ray wondered. It meant lost, it meant frozen, it meant gone.
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You save yourself or you remain unsaved.
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So there are cakes and pillows and colors galore, but underneath this more obvious patchwork quilt are places like a quiet room where you can go and hold someone's hand and not have to say anything.
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Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain. It was that day that I knew I wanted to tell the story of my family. Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun it cannot be contained.
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Out loud I said I had two children. Silently I said three. I always felt like apologizing to her for that.
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How to Commit the Perfect Murder was an old game in heaven. I always chose the icicle: the weapon melts away.
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He had been my almost. My might-have-been. I was afraid of what I wanted most - His kiss. Still, I collected kiss stories. -Susie Salmon
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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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Poison and medicine are often the same thing, given in different proportions
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But also I wanted him to go away and leave me be. I was granted one weak grace. Back in the room where the green chair was still warm from his body, I blew that lonely, flickering candle out
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I like gardening - it's a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.
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Nothing is ever certain.
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To transform experience and thought into language and narrative - that is beautiful even if that beauty is in brokenness.
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