Ellen Hopkins
Ellen Hopkins
Ellen Louise Hopkinsis a novelist who has published several New York Times bestselling novels that are popular among the teenage and young adult audience...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth26 March 1955
CityLong Beach, CA
CountryUnited States of America
fall cat eye
Spilling a Secret What its size, will have varying consequences. It’s not possible to predict what will happen if you open the gunnysack, let the cat escape. A liberated feline might purr on your lap, or it might scratch your eyes out. You can’t tell until you loosen the knot. Do you chance losing a friendship, if that friend’s well-being will only be preserved by betraying sworn-to silence trust? Once the seam is ripped, can it be mended again? And if that proves impossible, will you be okay when it all falls to pieces?
alone known
I couldn't have known 'Crank' was going to be published, let alone become a big hit. That book was very personal for me: I had to tell the story for myself.
believe pages sold verse
Believe it or not, I sold my first novel, 'Crank,' with only seventy-five pages complete. It was in verse then, and it was hard-hitting then.
people
There are people who think it's easier to write books in verse, and it's definitely not.
ask individual people
People inspire me. Everyone is such an individual and has unique stories. I'm a voyeur. I eavesdrop. Sometimes I ask questions. And sometimes people just want to tell me their stories.
best bit computers enjoy hot longer phones term
For short term relaxation, I take a hot tub. It's my best way to unblock writers' block, too. For a bit longer relaxation, I enjoy camping. Just being in the wilderness, with no phones or computers or anything I have to do really refreshes my spirit.
innocence nightmare
Innocence eroded into nightmare. All because of very bad touch. Love, corrupted.
coyotes packs hunts
Coyotes hunt in packs, and so do assholes.
memories pain lying
All I can do is lie here, brain turning somersaults. It's nights like these when memories stir, whipping themselves into stiff peaks of pain.
hate love-is fiction
I'm in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.
winter love-is fever
Clear. Cold. Empty. Like how I feel right now. Love is strange. One minute you’re jungle fever. The next you’re Artic winter.
dark brain want
...Things happened when you were little. Things you don't remember now, and don't want to. But they need to escape, need to worm their way out of that dark place in your brain where you keep them stashed.
break-out possibility closets
Possibilities ...in the closet ...itching ...to break out ...but afraid of ...the fallout
real faces real-me
Faces ...I ...don't ...know ...the real ...me