Where do you come from?
I was born and raised in snowy Syracuse, New York — or, as visitors like to call it, Canada. I grew up with my two fabulous parents and an equally fabulous younger sister, plus two disastrous attempts at hamster ownership. (One died. The other lost all its fur, then got all crusty and gross, and then died.)

How did you get into writing?
Back in the day (a Wednesday, I believe), I was not much a fan of writing. Reading, yes. I've been reading since I was a fetus. But writing - not so much. I did a bit of creative writing when I was younger (see my debut masterpiece at five years old, published by the Onondaga County Public Library, about rabbits who get shot by hunters), but not much in high school, except for craptastic history papers and whatnot. Fast forward to college, where I joined the Committee for Creative Enactments, the awesomest student-run murder mystery troupe ever. For my first couple of years, I once again wanted nothing to do with the writing. The script magically appeared in my hand, and I proceeded to act like a monkey or pirate or Uzbeckistani pop singer or whatever my part called for (all of those happened). But as time went on, the creative bug began to itch. So I pitched my idea for a show, it got selected, and I headed up the team that wrote it. It was fun. Too fun.

So you immediately began to pursue a career in writing?
Oh heavens no. I wrote some more during college but then graduated, which turned out to be a pretty terrible move. I stopped writing, because who in their right mind would think that would ever develop into something resembling a profession? And so, with my useless degrees in theater and sociology in hand, I decided to pursue neither of those disciplines and instead sample the exciting world of part-time work in Boston.

What kind of jobs did you have?
I'm SO glad you asked. It's not like they're embarrassing to talk about or anything.

Let's see: telemarketer for an uppity old-person travel company, employee at a museum gift shop, tour guide (a very bad tour guide), bread seller, house manager at Blue Man Group, transcriptionist, movie extra (look for a blurry, big-haired me in the background of the subway scene in The Departed), and, in the impossible-to-describe category, a guide at an interactive Egyptian tomb attraction/game. It involved fog and lasers. You had to be there.

Was it at a temp job in the HR department of a large hotel where you got your big break?
It was at a temp job in the HR department of a large hotel where I got my big break. And by big break, I mean that I was asked to file a gigantic stack of papers. It took me a couple days. When I finished, the manager looked at me as if I was a miracle, as if it were impossible for her to believe that a college graduate with a working knowledge of the alphabet could put things in order that quickly. So I was promoted to the front desk.

Weeks at that job turned into months. The managers were impressed by my filing and decided to keep me around. But Solitaire and web surfing began to get boring, so I started writing again. The writings turned into a whole bunch of failed blogs, but eventually a novel began to emerge.

So you got that novel published?
No. In fact, that novel should never see the light of day, ever. It turned into a rambling behemoth in need of a monster edit. And while I did end up querying it to agents, I look back now and am mortified to think I ever had the balls to waste anyone's time with it.

So where did Croak come from?
I had just gotten a bunch of rejection letters from the aforementioned novel (and rightly so), and was gearing up to send out another batch. I was working one very slow Sunday afternoon at the bread store and working on a crossword puzzle, when it hit me - the random idea of a Grim Reaper teaching his niece how to Kill people. I wrote down a few notes and thought about it for the rest of the day. When I got home, I started writing the first chapter. And Lex and Uncle Mort and everyone else was born, springing forth from my loins as if they'd been aching to pop into existence.

How did you get an agent?
I moved to New York City in September of 2008, which, as you may recall, was the worst time in recorded history to be throwing your money at anything. And yet I scraped together my last few dollars to attend a truly bitchin' conference, the New York Pitch Conference. It's run by Michael Neff, and gives aspiring writers the opportunity to pitch their novels to real, breathing editors from major publishing houses.

The editors liked my pitch, but unfortunately, none of them handled Young Adult. However, Tina Wexler of International Creative Management, who is all about the YA, had stopped by to hear the pitches and was apparently intrigued by mine (must have been my gasping, terrified delivery). Business cards were exchanged - mine being an embarrassing mess that I'd assembled on my crappy printer the night before - and somehow she managed to stop laughing long enough to shoot me an email requesting the manuscript. I did, she wrote back with rewrite suggestions, I did said rewrites, then she took me on as a client, and then we got married and hightailed it to Mexico, or something. It was a dizzying time.

Then what happened?
Rockstar Tina sold Croak to the equally rockstar Julie Tibbott at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in a two-book deal, and I called my parents to inform them that their daughter wasn't completely useless after all! Fun fact: I got this news while standing in line at the TKTS Broadway ticket booth in Times Square with a friend visiting from out of town. The booth was minutes away from opening, and if you've ever gotten tickets from there, you know that the ordering process is akin to that of the Soup Nazi's. Tina called and told me what was going down, and I was SO PSYCHED but also really had to get off the phone so that I could assemble the wherewithal required to purchase tickets in a way that wouldn't get me hurled out of the line. So that was awkward.

When does your book come out?
Croak will be released March 20, 2012. Its sequel, Scorch, will be released in the Fall of 2012.

Can I interview you, feature you, or draw a mustache on your picture for my blog?
You're so sweet for asking! And it's entirely possible that the answer is yes. Shoot me an email and we'll chat.

What do you do when you're not writing?
Hahahahaha. Haha. Ha.

Oh, you're being serious. I read, I watch TV, I torture my cats. I'm also a hardcore crocheter and knitter (badASS, right?), and if you want to buy some plush monsters I've made, they're available at bananagans.etsy.com. In the summer, I go outside, I go camping, I go beaching. Sometimes I seize the Iron Throne.

How tall are you?
Five feet flat. I'll thank you not to stare.

I have a burning, itching question that is starting to ooze, but you have not answered it on this page. Should I call a doctor?
Try emailing me first. If that doesn't help, then yes, seek medical attention.

Your book is dumb and I hate you.
I'm sorry, all questions must be asked in the form of a question.