What I try to do for my readers is to pass on some of the things that I found out about being thirteen after doing it for forty years.

Doctors couldn't be everywhere, so the Lord invented Vulcans. I thought you knew.

Honey, have you seen your sister?” She’s on Jupiter, Mom.

Footsteps in the snow suggest where you have been, point to where you were going: but when they suddenly vanish, never dismiss the possibility of flight.

A warp," Nita whispered. "A tunnel through space-time. Are you a white hole?" It stopped bobbing, stared at her as if she had said something derogatory. (Do I look like a hole?)

My first generation of young readers now have not only children, but some of them have grandchildren to whom they're introducing their old passion.

How am I supposed to save the universe with all this noise?!