Once upon a time there were two sisters. One of them was really, really strong, and one of them wasn't.' You looked at me. 'Your turn.' I rolled my eyes. 'The strong sister went outside into the rain and realized the reason she was strong was because she was made out of iron, but it was raining and she rusted. The end.' No, because the sister who wasn't strong went outside into the rain when it was raining, and hugged her really tight until the sun came out again.

The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.

What being home-schooled has taught me, more than anything, is what a waste of a life high school is.

I try really hard to ask people to take a look at their bookshelves. Are there female writers on it? Gay writers? Writers of color? There should be.

Then they scrambled through the window and into the darkness, determined to turn themselves into what they were not.

Writing is grunt work - you need to have self-motivation, perseverance, and faith... talent is the smallest part of it.

Remember when you were a little kid and you'd fall asleep in the car? And someone would carry you out and put you into bed, so that when you woke up in the morning, you knew automatically you were home again? That's what I think it's like to die.