Jay Asher is an American writer of contemporary novels for teens. He is best known for writing Thirteen Reasons Why.
A flood of emotions rushes into me. Pain and anger. Sadness and pity. But most surprising of all, hope.
Josh turns to me. “I can’t believe she’s writing these things. ” “Not she,” I say. “Me. ” “Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It’s crazy!” “Exactly,” I say. “I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.
And what about you-the rest of you-did you notice the scars you left behind? No. Probably not. Because most of them can't be seen with the naked eye.
I needed a break. . . from myself.
Maybe if I forgot things once in a while, we'd all be a little bit happier.
It's important to be aware of how we treat others. Even though someone appears to shrug off a sideways comment or to not be affected by a rumor, it's impossible to know everything else going on in that person's life, how we might be adding to hisher pain. People do have an impact on the lives of others; that's undeniable.
I can't. You can't rewrite the past.
I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.
I left. When I should have stayed.
Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?
But they were wrong. There was a reason.
There are also the people too bizarre to ignore, like Kyle Simpson. Future male stripper.
I want to look back. To look over my shoulder and see the Stop sign with huge reflective letters, pleading with Hannah. Stop!
All you really have. . . is now.
The road to publication is like a churro - long and bumpy, but sweet.
And after I dropped him off, I took the longest possible route home. . . I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighborhoods entirely new to me. And finally. . . I discovered I was sick of this town and everything in it.
It's up to the reader to decipher the code, or the words, based on everything they know about life and emotions.
Why does it say she has three hundred and twenty friends?" Josh asks. "Who has that many friends?
Because no, I didn’t push her away. I didn’t add to her pain or do anything to hurt her. Instead, I left her alone in that room. The only person who might’ve been able to reach out and save her from herself. To pull her back from wherever she was heading. I did what she asked and I left. When I should have stayed.
Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.