Carolee Dean

Carolee Dean is the author of Forget Me Not, Take Me There, and Comfort. She lives with her family in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where she works with teenagers as a speech pathologist. Find out more at

Books by this Author

Forget Me Not
Take Me There


Forget Me Not

From the author of Take Me There, a fast-paced novel in verse about a girl caught between life and death and the boy who will do anything to save her.

My Life in 8 Words

Author Revealed

Q. What is your motto or maxim?

A. What you believe shapes who you become!

Q. What’s your fantasy profession?

A. Tour guide at Disneyland. I don't even know if this job exists anymore, but when I was a kid my grandmother took me to Disneyland every summer. I always saw these people leading around tourists and taking them on all the rides. I thought that was the best job in the world because you got to go on the rides over and over again. I still think that would be the best job in the world.

Q. Who is your favorite fictional hero?

A. Joan Wilder, the main character in the movie "Romancing the Stone." She's an author who spends all her time glued to her computer until she's forced into a wild adventure in South America. She dreams of romance and adventure, but doesn't really want to take the risks involved in either.

Q. If you could acquire any talent, what would it be?

A. Playing the piano. I like to compose music but I'm very slow at it. If I could play the piano, it would help. I was a music composition major for about five minutes in college, but I was very slow at sight reading so I switched to music therapy and eventually speech pathology.

Q. If you could eat only one thing for the rest of your days, what would it be?

A. Pepperoni Pizza - It's yummy, and it contains all the basic food groups.

Author Voices

December 29, 2009



When I was a little girl we spent every Christmas with my grandparents in California. They didn't have a fireplace (Didn't need one -- it was sunny California after all). We also didn't have Christmas stockings. Instead of stockings, my grandmother put three of my grandfather's athletic socks on the back of the couch -- one for me and one for each of my brothers. On Christmas morning the socks would be filled with fruit; apples, bananas, and oranges. We didn't even get to eat the fruit. As soon as we "opened" our stockings (ur, um) socks, my grandmother snatched away the fruit and made a salad to go with Christmas dinner. I... see more