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Eggnog reminds me of mucus. Me, too. But in a good way.

Rainbow Rowell

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Rainbow Rowell
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 24
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Writer
NE
Good
Mucus
Reminds
Way

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I'm sort of...coming off a bad relationship, When did it end? Slightly before it started.
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I love you more than I hate everything else.
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I don’t just kiss people. Kisses aren’t... just with me.
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He tried to remember how this happened – how she went from someone he’d never met to the only one who mattered.
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What if Park realized that all the things he thought were so mysterious and intriguing about her were actually just … bleak?
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For the first time in weeks, Park didn't have that anxious feeling in his stomach on the way home from school, like he had to soak up enough Eleanor to keep him until the next day.
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When you're a woman, you have to work harder to get a laugh... I follow so many hilarious women on Twitter. It's a daily reminder that women get to be funny.
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Cath wanted to go back and rewrite every scene she'd ever written about Baz or Simon's chests. She'd written them flat and sharp and hard. Levi was all soft motion and breath, curves and warm hollows. Levi's chest was a living thing.
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I tend to write about my anxieties - it's what I'm afraid will happen. And I write a story working it out.
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It was like their lives were overlapping lines, like they had their own gravity. Usually, that serendipity thing felt like the nicest thing the universe had ever done for her.
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Maybe Park had paralyzed her with his ninja magic, his Vulcan handhold, and now he was going to eat her. That would be awesome.
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She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie his arms around her like a tourniquet. If she showed him how much she needed him, he'd run away.
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She was tired of being the one who cried.
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I don’t like you, Park. Sometimes I think I live for you
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It felt good to be writing in her own room, in her own bed. To get lost in the World of Mages and stay lost. To not hear any voices in her head but Simon's and Baz's. Not even her own. This was why Cath wrote fic. For these hours when their world supplanted the real world.
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The snow came up to the top of Georgie's calves - she had to lift her feet high to make any progress. Her ears and eyelids were freezing ... God, she'd never even been able to imagine this much cold before. How could people live someplace that so obviously didn't want them?
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What about him? she’d say, finding an attractive guy to point out while they were standing in the lunch line. Do you want to kiss him? I don’t want to kiss a stranger, Cath would answer. I’m not interested in lips out of context.
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Well, I'm writing everything that isn't my final project, so that when I actually sit down to write it, that's all that will be left in my mind.
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I wonder…,” she said, “if there was such a thing as time machines, would anyone ever use them to go to the future?
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But he kept finding new pockets of shallow inside himself. He kept finding new ways to betray her.
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