I Fell In Love With Books At

Ideas Seem To Come From Everywhere - My Life, Everything I See, Hear, And Read, And Most Of All, From My Imagination. I Have A Lot Of Imagination.

I Didn't Know I Was Really A Writer Until I Read It In The New York Times. And Then I Thought, "oh My God, Maybe I Can Really Do This". That Was A Review Of "margaret."

I Don't Really Know Exactly How It Happened But I Don't Like The Idea That I Would Ever Have Said I'm Going To Write About Racism Or Puberty Or Bullying.

Isn't That Interesting. All The Book Clubs. I've Never Belonged To One.

That's Good When You Don't Know What You're Doing. But You're Doing It And It's Spontaneous And You're Not Afraid.