-When I was six, my grandma thought I was possessed because I would lay still stare at the floor for long stretches. I was writing stories in my head, but she didn’t know that, and I never told her.
-I hate the word utilize. The word use always works. Use use. Please, for the love of peanut butter.
-I love the smell of oranges. I’m pretty sure that’s what happiness smells like. Pretty. Darn. Sure.
-I believe magic is real. It’s in a hug that melts away stress. The soft rumble of a cat’s purr. The way peanut butter is so smooth and peanutty. There is magic in sunshine that can ease the soul, and a smile can light up a room.
I write books with unreal magic—people can’t shape-shift or cause earthquakes— but I hope there is some real-world magic in them too.
But that’s for you to decide.