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I could pretend, at least, and if I pretended long enough, maybe I could make it into a reality.

Maureen Johnson

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Maureen Johnson
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Pretend
Least
Maybe
Reality
Enough
Long
Make
Pretended

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No one in history had ever done less and yet been so wrong.
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One question, I said. Did you tell me all that because you think I'm going to die? No, he said. It's because you're doing something brave, and I felt I should too. I'll take that as a yes, I said.
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I still have a whopping bad case of what you call scag magnetism. I thought i had gotten rid of it there, but it looks like scary guys still materialize from thin air in my presence. They are drawn to me. I am the North Pole, and they are the explorers of love.
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Walk really, really carefully. It's not complicated, but if you mess up, you'll die, so pay attention.
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The kids I talk to are readers, and the craziest, the most dedicated readers you will ever see.
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Something about her suggested that her leisure activities included wrestling large woodland animals and banging bricks together.
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Debbie had to get up and slice me a thick piece of cake before she could answer. And I do mean thick. Harry Potter volume seven thick. I could have knocked out a burglar with this piece of cake. Once I tasted it, though, it seemed just the right size.
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Well, what now? You have no job. I have no job. Wanna play Jenga?
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Do you ever sing in the car? Generally not. But I am driving a police car. I think people would like a singing policeman. Makes life seem more like a musical. Like Foot-tastic. You can talk for a long time about nothing. I certainly can, you charming man!
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I like to talk. Talking is kind of my thing. If talking had been a sport option at Wexford, I would have been captain. But sports always have to involve running, jumping, or swinging your arms around. You don’t get PE points for the smooth and rapid movement of the jaw.
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I am a mass of contradictions.
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The locker at the end of her bed had no lock, and one of the hinges was busted. She opened it up. There was a thing in it. The thing might have been a sandwich at some point, or an animal, or a human hand...but what it was now was fuzzy and putrid. A minute later, Ginny was down the stairs, out the door, and gone.
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Dr. Everest, got up and gave us a little pep talk. Mostly it boiled down to the fact that it was autumn, and everyone was back, and while that was a great thing, people better not get cocky or misbehave or he'd personally kill us all. He didn't actually say those words, but that was the subtext.
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Can I tell you something you really don't want to hear? He's going to break up with you. - Stuart
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One person's crazy is another person's sane, I guess.
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I had always assumed the weekend was a holy tradition, respected by good people everywhere. Not so at Wexford.
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One of them hung a pink bra from our lighting fixture. I left it there. It was a nice bra
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But we made our own fun, mostly. I recall a time, many years later, when American children seemed unable to amuse themselves without a fortune in electrical and electronic equipment. We had no fancy equipment and did not miss it.
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This is England, he explained. Tell someone it's a procedure, and they'll believe you. The pointless procedure is one of our great natural resources.
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You don't know me yet, I said. Rory was telling me she lives in a swamp, Charlotte said. That's right, I said, turning up my accent a little. These are the very first shoes I've ever owned. They sure do pinch my feet. Jerome gave a little snort.
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