One of the first things that Neal Shusterman told me in his Literature & Law workshop was that he didn’t believe in the saying: “there are no original stories.” Looking at his works, he definitely has the right to say that. From a novel on substance addiction (from the perspective of drugs!) to a trilogy on the consequences of perfecting humanity in a world with limited resources, Mr. Shusterman’s stories reflect his belief that a compelling story is universal, relevant, and urgent.
 

He also told us that a story was incomplete without characters that seemed real. “One of the biggest praises an author can get is readers wanting a sequel. Because that means they don’t want to let the characters go.” What challenges did the characters face? How did they act like real people? What were the rules of their reality? What would happen if they didn’t follow them? He taught us about how dialogue could convey not just what is said, but what remains unspoken and explained how prose had a ‘rhythm’ that could set the mood of a story. All things I had rarely considered despite reading thousands of novels and writing dozens of short pieces.
   

To wrap up the workshop, the class practiced creating stories by generating worlds and matching them with random characters. When someone proposed the setting of a to-be victim about to sip from a tampered drink, I suggested the protagonist: “Someone who doesn’t want to be the hero.” Mr. Shusterman wrote it down and asked, “Why doesn’t this person want to be the hero? What happened to them? Did they save someone who ended up hurting them? What’s behind this character? What motivates them?” I left the workshop realizing why I could write flash fiction but struggled with longer pieces. The intricate worldbuilding challenged me; I had to practice the ability to visualize and bring to life a different reality if I wanted to be a writer who truly made readers ask questions about their world.
   

Later, during lunch, Mr. Shusterman read out a few chapters of his unreleased novels. It was clear how much time and effort he had devoted to making the reality within the pages believable and compelling through fleshed-out characters, witty dialogue, hilarious beasts, and hair-raising cliffhangers. In the span of a few minutes, his little audience of high schoolers was enthralled with his work.
   

When he had to leave, we thanked him for inspiring us to become creative writers. His stories have challenged us as people with ideals and questions and doubts; we have grown from his works and teachings.
   

So here’s to Neal Shusterman and his original stories: Thank you for helping us become who we are today.