It’s the imperfections that make things beautiful.
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Jenny Han
Jenny Han is an American writer of children's and teen novels. 2Early life & education Han was born and raised in Richmond, Virginia and has one younger sister. After high school, Han went to college at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and later earned her MFA in creative writing at the New School, where she met fellow Young Adult novelists, Morgan Matson and Siobhan Vivian, the latter of which she would go on to cowrite the Burn for Burn Series with. Han currently lives in Brooklyn, New York. 2Publication history Jenny Han wrote her first published book, Shug, while she was in college. Shug is about Annemarie Wilcox, a twelve-year-old trying to navigate the perils of junior high school. Publishers Weekly said of the novel, "With its distinct Southern flavor, its presentation of universal conflicts and a cast of characters sure to be recognizable to readers, this book will likely draw a wide audience." Her next project was a trilogy for young adults about a girl's coming of age during summers. The trilogy, which includes The Summer I Turned Pretty, It's Not Summer Without You and We'll Always Have Summer, quickly became a New York Times bestseller. In 2011, Han began working on a new young adult series with fellow writer Siobhan Vivian about three high school girls who begin a mission to exact revenge on people who wronged them. According to Han, Han and Vivian "have been BFFs and writing buddies for years no
It’s hard to throw away history. It was like you were throwing away a part of yourself.
In the dark you can feel really close to a person. You can say whatever you want.
Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August.
Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August.
Sometimes it’s like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It’s like you see them through a special lens.
I'll never be that girl again. The girl who comes running back every time you push her away, the girl who loves you anyway.
I release you. I evict you from my heart. Because if I don’t do it now, I never will.
That’s when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn’t the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn’t enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say…
That's when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say…
Sometimes I like you so much I can’t stand it. It fills up inside me, all the way to the brim, and I feel like I could overflow. I like you so much I don’t know what to do with it. My heart beats so fast when I know I’m going to see you again. And then, when you look at me the way you do, I feel…
I think you half-fall in love with every person you meet. It's part of your charm. You're in love with love.
You have to let yourself be fully present in every moment. Just be awake for it, do you know what I mean? Go all in and wring every last drop out of the experience
We broke so easily. Like it was nothing. Like we were nothing. Does that mean it was never meant to be in the first place? That we were an accident of fate? If we were meant to be, how could we both walk away like that?
I suppose you can't hold on to old things just for the sake of holding on.
We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything. In his eyes, there was no trace of what had happened between us earlier and I could feel something inside me break. So that was that. We were finally, finally over. I looked at him, and I…
I don't want to be with a boy whose heart belongs to somebody else. Just once, I want to be somebody else's first choice
…it’s a lot of responsibility to hold a person’s heart in your hands.
When someone’s been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it’s like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you’re just clutching air and grit.