Jay Asher is an American writer of contemporary novels for teens. He is best known for writing Thirteen Reasons Why.
You can't stop the future You can't rewind the past The only way to learn the secret. . . is to press play.
Personally, I never understood the power of having books written about your experience - whatever that experience may be - until I wrote one and started hearing from teens. I just got an email from a reader who said that "Thirteen Reasons Why" was the first time they had felt understood. A book shouldn't be anybody's first time feeling understood and that's where censorship bothers me. These books need to be out there.
Stories about sensitive issues like sex, drugs or sexual assault, suicide and teen drinking, are often censored because people just don't want to talk about those things. It's not that these things don't happen, but when they're shared in a fictional setting, for some reason they make some people uncomfortable.
You can hear rumors. But you can't know them.
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 i walked for hours the mist growing thick and whole the thought of disappaering like that, so simply, made me so happy
Do you remember the last thing you said to me? The last thing you did to me? And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me when I said it I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.
We didn't get that chance because I was afraid. Afraid I had no chance with you.
It's hard to be disappointed when what you expected turns out to be true.
Why does it say she has three hundred and twenty friends?" Josh asks. "Who has that many friends?
I want to look back. To look over my shoulder and see the Stop sign with huge reflective letters, pleading with Hannah. Stop!
When you write a book for publication, you're writing it for other people to read.
Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It's crazy!
I take a slow sip of lukewarm coffee, reopen the book, and read the words scribbled in red ink near the top: Everyone needs an olly-olly-oxen-free.
A lot of you cared, just not enough.
When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?
And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.
Here's a tip. If you touch a girl, even as joke, and she pushes you off, leave. . . her. . . alone. Don't touch her. Anywhere! Just stop. Your touch does nothing but sicken her.
I didn't feel physically sick. But mentally. My mind was twisting in so many ways. (. . . ) We once saw a documentary on migraines. One of the men interviewed used to fall on his knees and bang his head against the floor, over and over during attacks. This diverted the pain from deep inside his brain, where he couldn't reach it, to a pain outside that he had control over.
I needed a break. . . from myself.