Rodman Philbrick
Rodman Philbrick
Rodman Philbrickis an American writer of novels for adults and children. He was born in Boston, Massachusetts, and currently lives in Maine and Florida. He and Lynn Harnett were married from 1980 until her death in 2012. They collaborated on scary books for young readers, including The House on Cherry Street, The Werewolf Chronicles , and Visitors, three trilogies published by Scholastic, Inc. Philbrick has also written using the pen names W. R. Philbrick, William R. Dantz, and Chris Jordan...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
My parents were avid readers. Both had ambitions to write that had been abandoned early in life in order to get on with life.
I have vivid memories of junior high school. I didn't quite know how to deal with kids and make friends and all of that. If you talked to people who knew me at the time, they'd think I was a popular kid in school. But boy, I didn't feel that.
I am an avid fisherman, and my daily schedule is to write in the morning and then go fishing in the afternoon. In Maine, I fish mostly for stripers, and in the Florida Keys, I go after all kinds of game fish.
I assumed 'Freak the Mighty' was probably too weird and melodramatic to find a publisher. I certainly never expected the book to have a profound influence on my career as a writer, but indeed it has.
I'm not a playwright; I'm a writer who loves theater.
I don't have any of the answers, son. Never did. All I can do is keep asking the questions. Keep trying to make sense of why people do what they do.
It all boils down to this: A person has only two options in life, to do something or to do nothing.
I used to belong to a family unit, with a foster mom and dad and my little sister, Bean, but that's over and I don't want to talk about what happened , or how unfair it was. Not yet. The less said about that the better, because if there's one thing I learned from Ryter it's that you can't always be looking backward or something will hit you from the front.
Bean finds the best apple in our tree and hands it up to me. "You know what this tastes like when you first bite into it?" she asks. "No, what?" "Blue sky." "You're zoomed." "You ever eat blue sky?" "No," I admit. "Try it sometime," she says. "It's apple-flavored.
Matter of fact, I watch tons of tube, but I also read tons of books so I can figure out what's true and what's fake, which isn't always easy. Books are like truth serum--if you don't read, you can't figure out what's real.
His heart was simply to big for his body.
I think in some way it's like that for all of us, living with the ghosts of things that used to be, or never were. We're all of us haunted by yesterday, and we got no choice but to keep marching into our tomorrows.
Expel the object!" Freak shouts. "Regurgitate, you big moron!" and he gives me another thump and I cough up this yucky mess, but I'm still laughing so hard my nose is running.
I'm thinking maybe letting the latches burn is the right idea. Let everything burn until there's nothing left but ashes and cool rain.