Nothing Sparkly Can Stay.

The Person In This Picture Is Really Me.

My Boyfriend Suggested I Write Two Pages A Day. He Wouldn't Take Me Out If I Hadn't Done My Two Pages. That's How I Wrote My Second Novel.

It Was Too Vast A Problem To Be Just A Personal Thing. There Should Be Some Help, Someone Should Tell Them Before It Was Too Late. Someone Should Tell Their Side Of The Story, And Maybe People Would Understand Then, And Wouldn’t Be So Quick To Judge A Boy By The Amount Of Hair Oil He Wore.

All My Life I Wanted Somebody Who Knew More Than I Did To Tell Me The Truth.

Nothing Sparkly Can Stay.