Maggie Stiefvater
Maggie Stiefvater
Maggie Stiefvateris an American writer of Young Adult fiction. She currently lives in Virginia...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth18 November 1981
CityHarrisonburg, VA
CountryUnited States of America
mother children smell
I leaned across the table towards the crumb-thrower. "Do that again," I said, loud enough to be heard over the opera singer, Dolly, my mother, and the smell of the breadsticks, "and I will sell your firstborn child to the devil.
book hair soundtracks
Then I picked my book back up again and stroked her hair and read to the soundtrack of her breaths.
hands pavement assuming
You're assuming they would listen to me," I said. Cole lifted his hands off the roof of the Volkswagen; cloudy fingerprints evaporated seconds ater he did. "We all listen to you, Sam." He jumped to the pavement. "You just don't always talk to us.
parent speak miserable
He sounded absolutely miserable. “Are you ever going to speak to me?
life people people-dont-change
People don't change who they are. They only change what they do with it.
reality blood tests
So here's my theory, and this is such crap science, I don't have to tell you. It's science without microscopes, blood tests, or reality.
thinking limits speed
I do all of my good thinking at over 65 miles per hour. The speed limit is, luckily, the same speed as my brainstorming speed.
giving-up writing thinking
I don't think I could ever give up music. It's what makes me tick. If there was no music, there would be no writing.
busting-out mind stories
I feel like I have so many stories basting in my mind, and they come busting out when they're ready.
book ideas work-out
I picture my books as movies when I get stuck, and when I'm working on a new idea, the first thing I do is hit theaters to work out pacing and mood.
saws needed knows
That was pretty much all you needed to know about Cole, right there. He saw something he didn't quite understand, liked it, and took it to be his.
thinking gestures way
He was not as soft as when I'd first met him, not as young, but the angles of his face, his quick gestures, the way he sucked in his lower lip to think before going on - I was in love with all of it.
free-time meaningless
I had so much free time that free time was meaningless.
dad grateful looks
In the middle of all this, as Sean slips out of his jacket, he looks over his shoulder at me and he smiles at me, just a glancing, faint thing before he turns back to Tommy. I'm quite happy for that smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest.