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Maybe my mother's right. Maybe there is more to Bryce Loski than I know. Maybe it's time to meet him in the proper light.

Wendelin Van Draanen

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Wendelin Van Draanen
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: January 6
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chicago
Illinois
Meet
Maybe
Mother
Light
Right
Time
Proper

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You want me to be a man,older than you, who goes by the name of Roullard.
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What he did to my heart was sheer, inexplicable, magic.
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It's experiences in life that give us something to write about, and since good fiction is applied tension, you'll have an arsenal of good material if life hasn't been peachy (and not a whole lot if it has).
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I wipe away my tears and nod, because the pain in my leg is nothing compare to the one in my heart.
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I miss school. What’s wrong with me?
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Okay that’s it. Now I’m torching this. I just need to score a match.
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The room fell quiet. And as I read down the list of over one hundred and fifty eight-grade boys, I realized that to me, there had only ever been one boy.
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I write early in the morning at the computer, and people think Im crazy, but I still use my Mac-Classic even though we have a state-of-the-art PC. There are just less distractions with the simpler machine.
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As much as thinking this upsets me, I'm starting to see that I need the merry-go-round much more than it needs me, and in the end my choice is to hop back on or get left in the dust.
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You got nothin' to lose but your self-respect.
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Holly, I understand that you are upset because Gemma pulled down your ants, but why did you think pouring motor oil inside her backpack is the way to solve the problem?
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A painting is more than the sum of its parts,' he would tell me, and then go on to explain how the cow by itself is just a cow, and the meadow by itself is just grass and flowers, and the sun peeking through the trees is just a beam of light, but put them all together and you've got magic.
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I fell asleep that night thinking about the kiss that might have been. What did a kiss feel like, anyway? Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be like the one I got from Mom or Dad at bedtime. The same species, maybe, but a radically different beast, to be sure. Like a wolf and a whippet – only science would put them on the same tree.
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...and I realized that Garrett was right about one thing- I had flipped. Completely.
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But in my heart I knew the old Bryce was toast. There was no going back. Not to Garrett or Shelly or Miranda or any of the other people who wouldn't understand. Juli was different, but after all these years that didn't bother me anymore. I liked it. I liked her.
Wendelin Van Draanen
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My grandfather stood beside me and looked across the street, too. No, Bryce, he said softly. She's the same as she's always been you're the one who's changed. He clapped his hand on my shoulder and whispered, And son, from here on out, you'll never be the same again.
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(Actually now I’m remembering that the goodbye chow isn’t spelled that way. It’s ciao or something weird like that. It’s Italian, right? But I’m not an Italian gypsy, I’m a hungry gypsy. So spelling it chow makes total sense.)
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There was other stuff, too, like how something can be so much more than the parts it took to make it, and why people need things around them that lift them above their lives and make them feel the miracle of living.
Wendelin Van Draanen
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Blue Face Disgusting taste Flush it Shush it Cold disgrace
Wendelin Van Draanen
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To by held above the earth and be brushed by the wind, she said,it's like your heart has been kissed by beauty.
Wendelin Van Draanen