I’m  a grown up— a term I use loosely— with a normal, happy life.  I’m married to my one twu wuv and we have two adorable children.  Outside of my sweet life,  I have what some feel is an odd fascination with young adult books.  Do I personally think it’s odd?  Heck to the no! But I’m told by my people (cough, husband, cough) that I’m kind of a crazy pants for being obsessed with books normally written for twelve-year olds.  When I’m not reading or taking care of my family (which takes ALOT of time! Why did no one ever warn me about this?),  I have a weird habit where I make lists—lists, lists, all the time.  Lists for groceries, lists of things to do, lists of games to play with my kids, lists of my favorite male literary characters of all time (everyone does that one, right?).  So this blog is like my list of all that I love about YA: the books, the characters, the authors and the genre itself.  It’s like a note you pass to your best friend during study hall, all about your big ‘ol crush on Jake Ryan (only your BFF never actually gets it’s because she’s like, totally asleep when you’re dumb enough to throw it over your shoulder) only Jake Ryan gets it and kisses you over a birthday cake while you’re wearing the ugliest  bridesmaid dress EVER!  Sigh.  Yes, it’s exactly like that minus the cake and the kissing.  YA is Jake Ryan and I have a massive crush.  Cue that 80′s music.

Oh Jake. A birthday cake AND my undies? You’re the swooniest!