The book smelled dusty and old but also carried a sweet tang, a hint of something inviting. She opened to the first page and started to read, pronouncing the words in a reverent whisper.

Being a writer is a good, good thing.

Personally, I believe “Young Adult” to be an arbitrary title that means the book "Can be enjoyed by anyone/Has a main character who’s not quite an adult/Isn’t really boring.

She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.

But, how do you know if an ending is truly good for the characters unless you've traveled with them through every page?

I'm going to find whoever is responsible for me sleeping out side with outside without pillows and kick them in the shins!-Enna

Over there!" "Where?" Enna asked in mock panic "Do you see something?

Reading a book is like going on a great journey. You don't know what'll happen, but something is bound to change. And for me, that change has always been good.