Laurie Halse Anderson
Laurie Halse Anderson
Laurie Halse Anderson is an American writer best known for children's and young adult novels. She received the Margaret A. Edwards Award from the American Library Association in 2009 for her contribution to young adult literature...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth23 October 1961
CountryUnited States of America
life
The feedback I get is that my books are honest. I don't sugar-coat anything. Life is really hard.
age believe child finally men watching
I'm finally watching 'Mad Men.' As a child of the '60s, I can't believe how old everything looks! I am the age of baby Eugene.
change country draft families rather soldiers treated veterans
I think how veterans are treated in our country is an abomination. We don't have the draft any more, which is why so many soldiers come from working-class - rather than middle- or high-income families. Those wealthier families aren't affected, so they're not agitating for change.
nice sleep mind
I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too?
mistake apology looks
I knit the afternoon away. I knit reasons for Elijah to come back. I knit apologies for Emma. I knit angry knots and slipped stitches for every mistake I ever made, and I knit wet, swollen stitches that look awful. I knit the sun down.
eating-disorder hips nightmare
He doesn't see my breasts or my waist or my hips. He only sees the nightmare.
elephants sweaters scarves
I need to finish this scarf/shawl/blanket thing so I can start something for Emma- a hat, maybe, or a sweater for her stuffed elephant.
mom eye thinking
No, I am never setting foot in this house again it scares me and makes me sad and I wish you could be a mom whose eyes worked but I don't think you can.
eating-disorder skinny cry
The stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking didn't make her skinny, it made her cry.
suicide hurt blood
I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.
bucks pockets dollars
I have ten bucks in my pocket - what to spend it on? French fries - ten dollars' worth of french fries, ultimate fantasy.
mom dad smell
What do you miss about being alive?" The sound of my mom singing, a little off-key. The way my dad went to all my swim meets and I could hear his whistle when my head was underwater, even if he did yell at me afterward for not trying harder. I miss going to the library. I miss the smell of clothes fresh out of the dryer. I miss diving off the highest board and nailing the landing. I miss waffles" - p. 272.
skins mouths stuff
I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.
earthquakes understood
I understood what triggered her earthquakes, most of them.