Maria Vargas > Recent Status Updates

It all boils down to self-interest. Manipulating the story; gaining the upper hand. Doing whatever it takes. If publishing is rigged, you might as well make sure it’s rigged in your favor. I get it. I’ve done it, too; it’s just playing the game. It’s how you survive in this industry.

Writing is the closest thing we have to real magic. Writing is creating something out of nothing, is opening doors to other lands. Writing gives you power to shape your own world when the real one hurts too much.

AT LEAST SOME PEOPLE SPEAK OUT ON MY BEHALF. MOSTLY WHITE people, to be fair, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re in the wrong.

Juniper what were you expecting would happen?!

People always describe jealousy as this sharp, green, venomous thing. Unfounded, vinegary, mean-spirited. But I’ve found that jealousy, to writers, feels more like fear.

It’s hard, after all, to be friends with someone who outshines you at every turn.

Why is everyone so stupid 🙄🙄🙄

Why is everyone treating Frankie like he's an idiot? He seems to be the only logical person so far.

Something was either deeply wrong with Richard, or deeply wrong with me. Both possibilities were terrifying.

I’m so lost, not sure if this is the past, present or having a glimpse of the future.

Holy crap, Ryan that was diabolical 😱

For me, by really knowing what makes a candidate tick, their last breath will sound sweeter to me than any other sound in the world.

Someone, somewhere in the country, is always having a worse time than you.

Because when you’re not considered to be a threat, you can get away with much, much more.

The later – evening – shift was usually when things became more interesting. For the more vulnerable out there, once the darkness falls, so do their barriers. Night-time is their enemy, because with fewer visible distractions there’s more opportunity to dwell on how hopeless their lives have become. It’s when they reach out for somebody’s hand.

Homes were supposed to be safe havens, meant to protect. It was supposed to be a shelter from the elements, a fortress to keep out evil, and her home had betrayed Josie in the worst possible way.

It isn’t the dark you should be afraid of, the girl thought, it’s the monsters who step out into the light that you need to fear.

This is another trick I’ve learned over the years—make people think they have the upper hand, and they trust you so much faster.

I’ve gone so long trying not to be seen that there’s something intoxicating about letting him really see me.

One thing growing up in the foster system taught me was to watch people’s eyes more than you listened to what they said. Mouths were good at lying, but eyes usually told the truth.

There’s a trick to spinning lies. You have to embed the truth in there, just a glimmer of it. That’s the part that will catch people, and it’s what makes the rest of your lies sound like truth, too.

As part of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, which had taken effect in 1975, banks and other financial institutions such as department stores and oil companies had sent over three hundred million notices to women informing them that they could now rightfully apply for credit or accounts in their own names.

Downplaying or downgrading titles was not new. It was a common enough practice for women at that time.

Women’s suffrage was granted out west decades ahead of its national adoption. On December 10, 1869, the Wyoming Territory granted women the right to vote, and in 1870, women in Utah gained the right to vote.

Despite that Wild West image, the western lands that would later become Colorado had a history of being friendlier toward women, even before the nation’s founding.

In 1974, bank discrimination on the basis of sex had been going on rather unremarkably until a few activists pointed out its flaws. It had finally been outlawed by the passage of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, also called “Regulation B.”

No one is born knowing how to love. You learn from parents, grandparents, friends. If all they taught you was how dangerous loving was, or the ways it could hurt, you’d never learn how to do it properly.

“You let me take us for granted. I loved you like breathing. But then you left and stole my air.”

“Pain is a sign of life. If it hurts, that means there’s something worth saving.”

He wanted to ask her what it felt like. To be loved for existing. To reach for someone and find them already reaching back. How did it feel when someone held on to you?

“They say it’s like true love, good help. You only get one in a lifetime.”