PROM is officially out! I hope you like it.
No limos, ball gowns, or tiaras for me. I have a school visit and have to start getting ready for the book tour that starts Sunday.
But I’ll be giggling all day.
Writing a book takes a lot of time and energy, and for me, anxiety. It feels awesome to have it out there in the world.
More later.
No snow today so my school visit is on as planned. Before I dash, a couple of quick things…
We’ve set aside the week of Oct. 31st – Nov. 4th, 2005 for school visits in the Boston area. If you are interested, email Sarah Henry, Keeper of the Schedule – henrysa78@yahoo.com.
To Max from the Casimir Pulaski Fine Arts Academy – if you want me to visit your school, you have to email Sarah. That’s how you get the ball rolling.
Stuart writes: What was the precise relevance (of SPEAK) to “The Scarlet Letter” on page100-102? I am writing it for my 9th grade Honors English class. We all think that this is a great book to read. Is there going to be a sequel? Please respond as so I may recite what your response is to my class.
Sorry, Stuart. I didn’t like doing homework when I was in high school, and I’m not going to do it now. That is one of the pleasures of being grown-up. However there is an entire page on my website that discusses the connections between the two books. Feel free to check it out.
The Horn Book review for PROM is up.
Flotsam that cluttered my brain today:
Can something be “very surreal”? A reporter used that phrase to describe the trial of Michael Jackson. Maybe it should be sur-surreal. That gets it close to susurration, which means “the indistinct sound of people whispering”. Which sort of fits.
I saw a flock of robins three days ago. Where did they go in the Nor’easter snow storm? Do they get spun around and flung at Vermont?
I made the mistake of watching Real World for more than sixty seconds. Because life is real when you live in the nicest apartment for one hundred miles and you don’t have to worry about your electricity being turned off. When you have a cheesy lame job that nobody cares about. When you become a stock character thrown in with other stock characters and people are supposed to be shocked when you throw up in boring, predictable, stock ways. (See the beer go down. Watch the beer come up. Oops – beer on your open-toed sandals. Oops – vomit in your hair. Grandma is so proud of you, sugar.)
I call game over on reality TV shows because they always suck. Can we go back to fiction now? It does a better job reflecting the truth.
Beloved Husband has the flu and I am 300 miles away from him. I do not feel very much like a Loving Wife. I’ve been trying for two days to send him virtual chicken soup. Now I am afraid I might succeed. I have these disturbing images of BH dragging himself off the couch, struggling to the kitchen just so he can get a drink of water… “Water,” he croaks, his face the color of an oyster…and THWAP! out of nowhere a massive amount of steaming chicken noodle soup materializes out of the ether (because of my amazing powers of concentration) and dumps all over his head.
I’m sorry, honey! I was aiming for the pot on the stove! Just shake those noodles off. The dog will clean it up. Maybe you should go back to the couch.
What if they made a reality TV show based in my head?
Just received the news that PROM has been nominated for inclusion on the 2006 BBYA (Best Books for Young Adults) list!!
Can’t stop grinning…
I checked with the reading specialist of today’s school last night. She agreed with me that it didn’t look good for today’s visit. Sigh. I’m really glad I left those May days open for snow postponements.
I got in about 12 hours of hammering on the manuscript yesterday. Those of you out there who write know how much fun this can be. It always happens in the last stage of revising for me. I whine and complain and gnash my teeth about how sick I am of Book X, then I submerge myself in the story for way too many hours a day and it is heaven. When I give a story every waking minute, I fall in love with it all over again. I can hold all of the story threads in my mind simultaneously. I remember every obscure fact – and every “fact” that contradicts it. I find new joy in the contrasting interpretations. I lavish care on my transitions. I fell asleep thinking about it, I dreamed about it, and I was thinking about it when I woke up.
For those of you backing away from the computer screen right now, I have one thing to say – this is why I am a writer, and not an insurance agent or nurse or auto mechanic. I love this stuff.
So all is not lost if today’s school visit is snowed out. I’ll submerge myself again in the manuscript and report back later.
Oh, wait… The Call just came in – no school today in the district I’m visiting. Mer’s school (Hatboro-Horsham) is closed, too. She’ll be happy about that.
Time for coffee, breakfast, then a dive back into the story. Wish me luck.