first lines.

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In November of 2012, I left New York City after three and a half years. I’m sure I’ve told the story on here before. I called my parents one afternoon, told them I was going to quit my job to write a book, and asked if I could move into their spare room. At the time they were living in a tiny house on a tiny road in a tiny town in Connecticut. There was a little nook in my bedroom for a grey armchair and some days I would spent ten full hours writing, stopping for more coffee or more food or a quick run around my neighborhood.

I wrote the first draft of THE HALF LIFE OF MOLLY PIERCE in three weeks.

The story came to me immaculately, almost fully-formed, and didn’t change much during the editing process. Sure, names were swapped and the ending was tweaked but it was the same novel that found its way into my head on Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn.

Well—mostly the same.

I originally thought it was going to be about the Fountain of Youth. And then I thought it was going to be about time travel. But those ideas only lasted for a few minutes before I realized why Lyle was chasing Molly. Why he ran a red light to catch up to her. Why he asked her to pretend she knew him while he died in her arms.

Now there are only three months to go until my book is released. July 8th. To commemorate the date, I wanted to share my favorite line. It’s the first line I wrote and the first line of the book and it’s my favorite because it never changed. I wrote this line while driving down Nostrand Avenue. I wrote this line while watching a motorcyclist dressed all in black swerve in and out of traffic behind me. I spoke it into my phone so I wouldn’t forget it. It was the line that started everything. The line that changed everything.

There are long stretches where I don’t remember anything. 

 

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