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Some nutter's gone and pulled a Jack the Ripper.

Maureen Johnson

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Maureen Johnson
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Ripper
Jack
Pulled
Gone

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Nothing was quite like it was supposed to be.
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Spicy food and I have a close relationship—an obsessive one, in fact. If it’s spicy, I want it. I want to sweat and shake and go half blind from the searing pain . . . which, now that I put it that way, seems really suggestive. But spicy stuff is addictive. That’s a known fact of science.
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Tired, but not the kind of tired that sleep fixes.
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When I worked in theater, I was always writing things on Post-it Notes and sticking them on screens or desks. Twitter has given me a way of continuing to post those notes, only a lot of other people see them, too.
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It was almost funny. Life seemed downright accidental in its brevity, and death a punch line to a lousy joke.
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Proximity doesn't breed familiarity.
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These houses had been plunked down with an alarming randomness -- unevenly spaced, on crooked lines, like whoever had designed the place had said, We'll just follow this cat, and wherever he sits down, we'll build something.
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I knew it was beautiful, but knowing something is beautiful and caring about it are two very different things, and I didn't care.
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Kissing is something that makes up for a lot of other crap you have to put up with...It can be confusing and weird and awkward, but sometimes it just makes you melt and forget everything that is going on.
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I guess life is full of maybes.
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We study there a lot because... what other choice does society give us, right? It's Starbucks or death, sometimes.
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With that, I splashed some water on my face, fixed on a smile, and stepped out. I would find Jerome. I would make him explain to me what I was missing. We would laugh, then we would kiss with tongue, and all would be well.
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This kind of thing always amazed Ginny--people who just walked away from institutions. People who left school when they didn't see the point. Aunt Peg had done that. Ginny knew she never would. That either made her someone who worked hard and finished things, or someone who didn't have the guts to break away from the pack. Maybe both.
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Why are Americans so fascinated by Ireland? Keith asked... you all think you're Irish. What's the appeal? Do you like the accent more? Is it all the magical rocks? Oh, look, a lep­rechaun.
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A pause while my mother made high-pitched sisterly devotions of gratitude.
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Fear can't hurt you, she said. When it washes over you, give it no power. It's a snake with no venom. Remember that. That knowledge can save you.
Maureen Johnson
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She was standing in the airport of Copenhagen, staring at a doorway, trying to figure out if it was (a) a bathroom and (b) what kind of bathroom it was. The door merely said H. Was she an H? Was H hers? It could just as easily be his. Or Helicopter Room: Not a Bathroom at All
Maureen Johnson
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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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Every time you try to flirt with her, a puppy dies.
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The kids I talk to are readers, and the craziest, the most dedicated readers you will ever see.
Maureen Johnson