For as long as I can remember, I had always wanted to be a pilot and a writer. The dream of being a pilot ended the day I threw up on a flight to Brazil. The dream of being a writer almost died when Lisa, a fictional character in one of my stories, killed herself. It was seventh grade. I was twelve. I always wrote stories, all kinds of stories. But I was a horrible student (an underachieving, chronically late, and intentionally rude meanie-pants) who hated adults and authority. So when I handed in a story about a girl who […]