Jandy Nelson
Jandy Nelson
Jandy Nelsonis an American author of young adult fiction. Prior to her career as an author, Nelson worked for 13 years as a literary agent. She holds a BA from Cornell University as well as MFAs in poetry and children's writing from Brown University and Vermont College of Fine Arts. Nelson lives in San Francisco, California...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth24 June 1965
CountryUnited States of America
sky might packs
Someone might as well roll up the whole sky, pack it away for good.
beautiful heart stories
Life’s a freaking mess… there’s not one truth ever, just a bunch of stories, all going on at once, in our heads, in our hearts, all getting in the way of each other. It’s all a beautiful calamitous mess.
miracle
You have to see the miracles for there to be miracles.
running brother fall
This is what I want: I want to grab my brother’s hand and run back through time, losing years like coats falling from our shoulders.
thinking expression secret
All her knowledge is gone now. Everything she ever learned, or heard, or saw. Her particular way of looking at Hamlet or daisies or thinking about love, all her private intricate thoughts, her inconsequential secret musings – they’re gone too. I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I’m watching it burn right to the ground.
sound
Music: what life, what living itself sounds like.
lonely grief wind
When I'm with him, there is someone with me in my house of grief, someone who knows its architecture as I do, who can walk with me, from room to sorrowful room, making the whole rambling structure of wind and emptiness not quite as scary, as lonely as it was before.
grief clothes people
I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.
wall book writing
I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.
sister stars lying
There were once two sisters who were not afriad of the dark because the dark was full of the other's voice across the room, because even when the night was thick and starless they walked home together from the river seeing who could last the longest without turning on her flashlight, not afraid because sometimes in the pitch of night they'd lie on their backs in the middle of the path and look up until the stars came back and when they did, they'd reach their arms up to touch them and did.
dream make-sense persons
Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.
library dies
Each time someone dies, a library burns.
fall thinking air
The architecture of my sister's thinking, now phantom. I fall down stairs that are nothing but air.
mom thinking secret
This is the secret I kept from you, Bails, from myself too: I think I liked that Mom was gone, that she could be anybody, anywhere, doing anything. I liked that she was our invention, a woman living on the last page of the story with only what we imagined spread out before her. I liked that she was ours, alone.