As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake.
AIMEE BENDERMany kids, it seemed, would find out that their parents were flawed, messed-up people later in life, and I didn’t appreciate getting to know it all so strong and early.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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Before she knew it was candles, did she think she’d done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips.
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I was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
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That’s the thing with handmade items. They still have the person’s mark on them, and when you hold them, you feel less alone.
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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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Language is the ticket to plot and character, after all, because both are built out of language.
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But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
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I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
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But I loved George in part because he believed me; because if I stood in a cold, plain room and yelled FIRE, he would walk over and ask me why.
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That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.
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I have had with novel writing, and I have put to bed big chunks of work that just didn’t sustain my interest.
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Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
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I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
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Listen. Look. Desire is a house. Desire needs closed space. Desire runs out of doors or windows, or slats or pinpricks, it can’t fit under the sky, too large. Close the doors. Close the windows.
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While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
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As soon as you laugh from nerves or make a joke or say something just to say something or get all involved with the bushes, then you blow open a window in your house of desire and it can’t heat up as well. Cold draft comes in.
AIMEE BENDER