Sarah Dessen
Sarah Dessen
Sarah Dessenis an American writer who lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth6 June 1970
CityEvanston, IL
giving firsts insight
I've always written in first person. It gives the readers more insight.
girl language ends
The language of solace, and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.
morning eye night
Morning would come before we knew it. It always did. But we still had the night, and for now, we were together, so I just closed my eyes and drank it all in.
life-is-short appreciate waste
Look. We both know life is short, Macy. Too short to waste a single second with anyone who doesn't appreciate and value you.
school wish stories
All of my stories, they don't come from my high school experience, but they're definitely based on things that happened to me in high school, or things that happened to friends of mine, or things that I wish had happened to me.
memories stills ifs
It's still a memory worth having, even if it's not exactly what you imagined.
way chance problem
Because if you were the problem, chances were you could also be the solution. The only way to find out was to take another shot.
said
What do you do when you finally hear everything you've always thought said aloud?
writing thinking historical
I think I'm too lazy a writer to do something like historical fiction. You have to do so much research. I just write what I know.
believe people easier
The truth was, I wasn't sure. But I wanted to keep believing people could change, and it was certainly easier to do so when you were in the midst of it.
mother dog eggs
I thought this was a cookout. You know, dogs and burgers, Tater Tots, ambrosia salad" Dexter picked up a box of Twinkies, tossing them into the cart. "And Twinkies." "It is,"..."Except that it's a cookout thrown by my mother." "And?" "And my mother doesn't cook." He looked at me waiting. "At all. My mother doesn't cook at all." "She must cook sometimes." "Nope." "Everyone can make scrambled eggs, Remy. It's programmed into you at birth, the default setting. Like being able to swim and knowing not to mix pickles with oatmeal. You just KNOW.
memories fear real
I'd still thought that everything I thought about that night-the shame, the fear-would fade in time. But that hadn't happened. Instead, the things that I remembered, these little details, seemed to grow stronger, to the point where I could feel their weight in my chest. Nothing, however stuck with me more than the memory of stepping into that dark room and what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real.
thinking behind-you company
I think when you're a beginning author with any publishing company, there's only so much they can put behind you.
people succeed
She tried to be someone people liked. She tried to be someone people disliked. But all I became was someone who didn't succeed with anything I tried to be.