I wrote a book. It sucked. I wrote nine more books. They sucked, too. Meanwhile, I read every single thing I could find on publishing and writing, went to conferences, joined professional organizations, hooked up with fellow writers in critique groups, and didn’t give up. Then I wrote one more book.
Beth RevisTags: books persistence writing inspiration publishing debut-author first-drafts
You know those primitive tribal people who believed a camera could steal your soul? Turns out they were right.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author
He looks like the kind of boy who would jump trains, strum guitars, and pass a joint.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
I'm not Bonnie™ or Chloe. I'm the essence of her, the nontrademarked person the camera can never capture and my parents have no right to sign over. There is a sovereign nation encased in this skin that MetaReel can never trademark.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
Hate is a lot like love. It's warm and fills you up until every part of you is tingling to release it.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
If my sister were a character in a Victorian drama, she would be the snobbish rich girl with a penchant for talking shit about everyone behind their fan.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
The past is past. You tried to kill yourself. So what? I humped a couch in season twelve. We all have our skeletons.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
I don't like seeing myself on camera." But that's not it--that sounds shallow, like I'm worried I'll look fat or something. "It's like somebody is walking on my grave. TV immortalizes you. The episodes are what my family would watch if I died.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
This, I think, is a little glimpse of what life could be like without my family. Home could be a place of laughter and love, a refuge. I'm filled with a terrifying weightlessness, like I've jumped off a cliff, but I know that if I don't look down, I'll be just fine.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
This night felt like a last hurrah, like we could blaze our brightest, at the apex of our insane adolescence. This was our Mardi Gras before the dark days of Lent.
Heather DemetriosTags: ya debut-author debut-novel
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