Jennifer Niven
On May 14, 1968, Jennifer Niven was born in Charlotte, in the United States, beginning a life that would take shape around writing in the English language across several distinct forms.
Her work as a novelist, screenwriter, and author of non-fiction reflects a career that moves among registers rather than holding to one. Two of her notable works are All the Bright Places and Breathless, both titles that appear within her fiction output. Young adult literature is the genre most associated with her name, though her writing also extends into non-fiction. As a screenwriter she works in a separate medium, bringing the same language — English, her sole listed working tongue — to the particular demands of the screen.
The Library of Congress catalogs her under the authorized label "Niven, Jennifer," a formal designation that marks the body of work she has produced as an American author. Her dual standing as novelist and screenwriter positions her across more than one kind of storytelling practice, and All the Bright Places remains among the titles most closely associated with her name.
Quotes by Jennifer Niven
Jennifer Niven's insights on:
I mean, I know but I don’t. I’ve always been different, but to me different is normal.
I want you to remember that you can’t feel responsible for everything. We’re your parents, and we will figure us out. All you need to do – any of you” – she looks at my brothers – ” is be a kid for now and let us be there for you.”“All of us?” Dusty says. “Even those of us without neurological disorders?” “All of you.
I’m sorry. I love you. But not sorry I love you because I could never be sorry for that.
She is oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus. The same elements that are inside the rest of us, but I can’t help thinking she’s more than that and she’s got other elements going on that no one’s ever heard of, ones that make her stand apart from everybody else. I feel this brief panic as I think, What would happen if one of those elements malfunctioned or just stopped working altogether? I make myself push this aside and concentrate on the feel of her skin until I no longer see molecules but Violet.
It’s okay to laugh you know. The earth is not going to split open. You’re not going to hell. Believe me.
In 1912, a man named Franz Reichelt jumped off the Eiffel Tower wearing a parachute suit he designed himself. He jumped to test his invention – he expected to fly – but instead he fell straight down, hitting the ground like a meteor and leaving a 5.9-inch-deep crater from the impact. Did he mean to kill himself? Doubtful. I think he was just cocky, and also stupid.
A string of thoughts run through my head like a song I can’t get rid of, over and over in the same order: I am broken. I am a fraud. I am impossible to love.
