But there were times when you felt miserable and you wanted to feel better, and other times when you felt miserable and you figured you would just keep on feeling miserable.

She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?

I don't have the life of a famous person. But I do feel like I've been able to connect with a lot of people.

I love the idea of fictional worlds kind of all cohering in some way.

His distress and pleasure mixed and married, giving birth to several anxious children.

She couldn’t hide from everyone for the rest of her life… Well she could. That was the direction things were going. But she knew from long-ago experience that when you were uncertain and if you were courageous enough to let her in a real friend could do a world of good.

As much as I'm drawn to writing about teenage girls, I like the idea of having the freedom to branch out and write about different ages, for different ages.