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I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen. The first of these came as a terrible shock and, like anything that changes you forever, split my life into halves: Before and After.

Ransom Riggs

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Ransom Riggs
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Film Director
Journalist
Photographer
Screenwriter
Writer
Maryland
United States
Firsts
Accepting
Split
Come
Terrible
Splits
First
Happen
Shock
Things
Came
Began
Would
Forever
Extraordinary
Life
Half
Changes
Like
Happens
Accept
Anything
Ordinary
Halves

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Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.
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I never remember nice dreams only the bad ones stick.
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What I believe when it comes to big things in life, there are no accidents. Everything happens for a reason. You are here for a reason - and it's not to fail and die.
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I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was.
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Whenever I try to map things out they inevitably change. Which doesn't mean I don't map them out — I just try to embrace the better ideas that come along as my fingers are flying around the keyboard mid-draft!
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I'd been born in the wrong century, and I felt cheated.
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We cling to our fairy tales until the price for believing in them becomes too high.
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Laughing doesn't make bad things worse any more than crying makes them better. It doesn't mean you don't care, or that you've forgotten. It just means you're human.
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Do you ever find yourself climbing into an open grave during a bombing raid and wish you'd just stayed in bed?
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I'm no expert on girls, but when one tries to pinch you four times, I'm pretty sure that's flirting
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There was a girl who could fly, a boy who had bees living inside him, a brother and sister who could lift boulders over their heads.
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My portal to another world was fiction.
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I grew up feeling like a weirdo like many kids do. But I was lucky to find my own home for peculiar children. I went to a school for the gifted in Florida, and it was full of kids who - we were all strange together. And that was a real blessing.
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Maybe it was better, now and then, to wonder.
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But these weren't the kind of monsters that had tentacles and rotting skin, the kind a seven-year-old might be able to wrap his mind around-they were monsters with human faces, in crisp uniforms, marching in lockstep, so banal you don't recognize them for what they are until it's too late.
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I have an unusual hobby: I collect pictures of people I don't know. It started when I was a kid growing up in South Florida, the land of junk stores, garage sales, and flea markets, as a kind of coping mechanism.
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I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.
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I had been writing since I was pretty small, and I've always been telling these stories about doors and finding other worlds within our own.
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Our debt was too great and the words thank you too small.
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I just like that balance of the real and the fantastical because as a reader and consumer of stories and fantasy, I always want to feel like I can find that world.
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