“I’m sorry if...I get too personal, if I make you uncomfortable, but writing is like one of the seven deadly sins, like Sharing on Mr. Rogers, and once you get the bug you’re trapped in The Neighborhood of Make-Believe forever.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share Image
“Of course, I rationalize the fear. I realize it’s not real, that my house isn’t burning down, that the deer aren’t going to kill… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“I think first of the children. What the hell am I supposed to tell them? Then I think about money, the house, all those… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“I long for some connection, to the real and those who love them, and hope that my fiction can reach beyond the veil, that… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“She dreamed of driving off bridges: into a lake beneath some twisting highway of her youth, into the reservoir on the country road to… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“Let’s call my mood melancholy; let’s call it remembrance. Or maybe let’s call it longing. Yes, let’s call it longing instead.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“I am forever an advocate of books, both the reading of them and the writing. There is something sacred to me in that community.… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“She was no stripper with a heart of gold, that was for sure. A heart of steel, more like.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“Here’s a random factoid: I like cats. And here’s another: I like red wine.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“I think of Ariel, my local neighborhood mermaid, how she only had twenty-four hours to turn her life around...” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“My Stephen King for his Ayn Rand. My Terry Goodkind for his T.S. Elliot. Not a bang but a whimper.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“It’s not like I planned it. I never woke up from some rosy dream and said, “Okay, world, today I’m gonna spaz.” — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
“Amber Rorman had told me too that our third grade teacher, Ms. Lizetti, was really a lesbian, which I thought was a disease until… — Shannon Celebi Copy Share
