David Levithan is the mastermind behind this thing. Here’s the schedule:
Monday, 3/15 (NYPL, Tompkins Square Branch, 331 East 10th Street, 6pm):
First Draft to Final Draft – Talking About the Writing Process
featuring:
Gayle Forman
Daphne Grab
Carolyn Mackler
Sarah Mlynowski
Blake Nelson
Marie Rutkoski
Eliot Schrefer
Natalie Standiford
Green is made of yellow and blue, nothing else, but when you look at green, where’ve the yellow and the blue gone? Somehow this is to do with Moran’s dad. Somehow this is to do with everyone and everything. But too many things’d've gone wrong if I’d tried to say this to Moran.
I have a few things to say about my covers on Melissa Walker’s blog: go here.
I want to do this more. Highlight writers on their way up. Here’s a story by an emerging writer, Matt Van Buren, who is currently finishing up his first YA novel.
Check it out here (just click on Matt Van Buren).
He’s also reading at Bookcourt in Carroll Gardens on Feb 25. And I need help heckling the guy!
Love is the word used to label the sexual excitement of the young, the habituation of the middle aged, and the mutual dependence of the old.
Check out this really cool back and forth I just did with the great Sara Zarr on her blog: Go Here.
Thanks Sara!
The year I turned ninety, I wanted to give myself the gift of a night of wild love with an adolescent virgin.
Always upon first boarding a large and populous ship at sea, especially a foreign one, with a nondescript crew such as Lascars or Manila men, the impression varies in a peculiar way from that produced by first entering a strange house with strange inmates in a strange land. Both house and ship–the one by its walls and blinds, the other by its high bulwarks like ramparts–hoard from view their interiors till the last moment, but in the case of the ship there is this addition: that the living spectacle it contains, upon its sudden and complete disclosure, has, in contrast with the blank ocean which zones it, something of the effect of enchantment. The ship seems unreal; these strange costumes, gestures, and faces but a shadowy tableau just emerged from the deep, which directly must receive back what it gave.
A great program that works with kids who would be the first in their family to attend college. Here’s a shot of them holding their copies of Mexican WhiteBoy (note the old, dumb cover).
I hope I get to meet a few of these folks at the Tucson Book Festival March 13 and 14.
The AZ Crew
Would you like to confess? said the priest.
I did it, said Suttree.
A quick smile.
I’d like some wine.
Oh you can’t have any wine, said a nursevoice.
The priest bent and opened his little leather case and took out a cruet. You had a close call, he said.
All my life I did.
He tipped winedrops from the birdtongue spout down Suttree’s throat. Suttree closed his eyes to savor it.
Do you have any more?
Just a drop. Not too much, I dont think.
That works, Suttree said.
Are you feeling better?
Yes.
God must have been watching over you. You very nearly died.
You would not believe what watches.
Oh?
He is not a thing. Nothing ever stops moving.
Is that what you learned?
I learned that there is one Suttree and one Suttree only.
I see said the priest.
Suttree shook his head. No, he said. You dont.