Alice Hoffman
Alice Hoffman
Alice Hoffmanis an American novelist and young-adult and children's writer, best known for her 1995 novel Practical Magic, which was adapted for a 1998 film of the same name. Many of her works fall into the genre of magic realism and contain elements of magic, irony, and non-standard romances and relationships...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth16 March 1952
CountryUnited States of America
pain joy pay
I really feel like the gift is also the curse. It's always half-and-half. Whatever brings you the most joy will also probably bring you the most pain. Always a price to pay
school kids home
I always quit at three when my kids come home from school so I feel pretty spoiled
book tone plot
I never plot out my novels in terms of the tone of the book. Hopefully, once a story is begun it reveals itself
blood sorrow done
A red map isn't easy to follow. Any document made of blood and bones is tricky. Wrong turns are easily made, and there are often piles of stones in the road. A person has to disregard time and sorrow and all the damage done. If you follow, if you dare, the thread always leads to whomever or whatever you've forgotten ...
beautiful meaningful jobs
You can try to take sorrow and make it into something enduring, meaningful and beautiful. I always feel guilty that this is my job, that I get to do this
dream writing loss
I feel more influenced in my own work by dreams than I do by other writers' works in a way. Or by popular culture, movies - what else is there to write about than love and loss?
real character writing
After a while, the characters I'm writing begin to feel real to me. That's when I know I'm heading in the right direction
writing different novelists
I never see a novel as a film while I'm writing it. Mostly because novels and films are so different, and I'm such an internal novelist
thinking reality possibility
Sally...can no longer think of love as a reality, or even as a possibility, however remote.
heart broken want
Hearts were made for being broken. There's really no way around it if you want to be a human being.
book reading grandmother
Our house was littered with books- in the kitchen, under the beds, stuck between the couch pillows--far too many for her the ever finish. I suppose I thought if my grandmother kept up her interests, she wouldn't die; she'd have to stay around to finish the books she was so fond of. "I've got to get to the bottom of this one," she'd say, as if a book were no different from a pond or a lake. I thought she'd go on reading forever but it didn't work out that way.
lost-love sleep people
The only people out at this hour were ones who couldn't sleep,those haunted by one thing or another:love thwarted, love lost, love thrown away. They were the sort of people who didn't want to be noticed, who wanted to slip through shadows, be alone with their despair.
rain thinking rocks
I wept to think that life went on even when so much had been lost, that rain still fell and myrtle grew between the rocks.
mother hands water
I thought of the bowl of water my mother taught me to look into. It was true, everything a person ever needed to know was right there in a single bowl small enough to fit in the palm of one hand.