Sara Farizan

Sara Farizan was born on August 2, 1984 in Massachusetts. Her parents immigrated from Iran in the seventies, her father a surgeon and her mother a homemaker. Sara grew up feeling different in her private high school not only because of her ethnicity but also because of her liking girls romantically, her lack of excitement in science and math, and her love of writing plays and short stories. So she came out of the closet in college, realized math and science weren’t so bad (but not for her), and decided she wanted to be a writer. She is an MFA graduate of Lesley University and holds a BA in film and media studies from American University. Sara has been a Hollywood intern, a waitress, a comic book/record store employee, an art magazine blogger, a marketing temp, and an after-school teacher, but above all else she has always been a writer. Sara lives near Boston, has a cool sister, loves Kurosawa films, eighties R&B, and graphic novels, and thinks all kids are awesome.

Citações

302 Rizvi Khadijafez uma citaçãohá 2 anos
We were six. We didn’t wear head scarves then. We were little girls, not “whores of Babylon,” to be met by the scrutinizing eye of any asshole with a beard. Nasrin has the longest, darkest hair but it never gets tangled or neglected under her roosari like mine does. I always think there’s no point in making my hair look decent if I have to cover it in school, but Nasrin is always taming her locks—blow drying, using mousse, a flat iron sometimes. No matter what she does to her hair, she will always be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
302 Rizvi Khadijafez uma citaçãohá 2 anos
I think about telling Ali about Nasrin because it’s getting so difficult not to talk about how I feel. I want to shout how much I love her to anyone who will listen, but sometimes I feel stupid even saying “I love you” to Nasrin. I know she loves me, but once in a while I can’t believe she could feel that way about me. I think that she just might not want to hurt my feelings.
302 Rizvi Khadijafez uma citaçãohá 2 anos
“You’d be living with me. I would keep the boys away,” I say with a grin. She leans in closer to me. Her perfume smells like jasmine and vanilla. She’s so cruel. I could die from it. Her mouth is close to my ear, and I think she knows how deliciously evil she’s being.

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