The lesson you have to learn as novelist is how to be collaborative, and how to say, "I don't get to dictate this."

I write about kids growing up, I write a lot about schools and parents, and all of my experiences with those things have been suburban experiences.

When things don't go well, it helps to think of yourself as a genius and the rest of the world as a bunch of idiots.

I don't really distinguish between sympathy and honesty when I'm writing. The two go together - I'm interested in inhabiting my characters, seeing the world through their eyes.

You could say that this book is ripped from the headlines, but that wouldn't be fair. Bret Anthony Johnston's riveting novel picks up where the tabloids leave off, and takes us places even the best journalism can't go. Remember Me Like This is a wise, moving, and troubling novel about family and identity, and a clear-eyed inventory of loss and redemption.

He made me think of all the books I hadn't read, and all the ones I'd read but hadn't fully understood.

She told her therapist it reminded her of coming home the summer after her freshman year at Rutgers, stepping back into the warm bath of family and friends, loving it for a week or two, and then feeling trapped, dying to return to school, missing her roommates and her cute new boyfriend, the classes and the parties and the giggly talks before bed, understanding for the first time that that was her real life now, that this, despite everything she'd ever loved about it, was finished for good.