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I don't talk about my books while I'm writing them: not even my husband knows what a novel's about until it's done.

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Book
Done
Writing
Even
Husband
Novel
Books
Talk

More quotes by Sarah Dessen

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I wondered which was harder, in the end. The act of telling, or who you told it to. Or maybe if, when you finally got it out, the story was really all that mattered.
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What, I said, is that a crime here or something? Like only buying one thing at the Gas/Gro?
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It wasn't about being happy or unhappy. I just didn't want to be me anymore.
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The only trick was never giving more that you were willing to lose.
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I'd seen another shade of him, and if it had been light where we were now, he'd have seen the same of me. So I was grateful, as I had been so often in my life, for the dark.
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n the dark everyone felt the same: the edges blurred. When I think of myself then, what I was like two years ago, I feel like a wound in a bad place, prone to be bumped on corners or edges. Never able to heal.
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I knew this feeling, the 2 a.m. loneliness that I'd practically invented.
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After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.
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Accepting all the good and bad about someone. It's a great thing to aspire to. The hard part is actually doing it.
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Oh for God's sake,' Heather said, 'I wish you two would just go out, fail miserably as a couple, and get it over with.
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There has to be a middle. Without it, nothing can ever truly be whole. Because it is not just the space between, but also what holds everything together.
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And trying to break it down this way, to minor and major offenses, maybes and what-ifs, was like arguing over the origin of cracks in a broken egg. It was done. How it happened didn't matter anymore.
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Fifteen minutes later, a meeting was called. Okay, look. Deb's face was dead serious. I know I just joined this project, and I don't want to offend anyone. But I'm going to be honest. I think you've been going about this all wrong. I'm offended, Dave told her flatly.
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I didn't want to talk about what happened, so it seemed safest not to talk at all.
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Just me and the future, finally together. Now there was a happy ending I could believe in.
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Needing was so easy: it came naturally, like breathing. Being needed by someone else, though, that was the hard part. But as with giving help and accepting it, we had to do both to be made complete-like links overlapping to form a chain, or a lock finding the right key.
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At the same time, though, I was beginning to wonder if this was just how it was supposed to be for me, like perhaps I wasn't capable of having that many people in my life at any one time. My mom turned up, Nate walked away, one door opening as another clicked shut.
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What you need, what you deserve, is a guy who adores you for what you are. Who doesn't see you as a project, but a prize. you know?
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I mean, it's not surprising, really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's, like, part of you for good.
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You can't make any one person your world. The trick is to take what each can give you and build a world from it.
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