Okay, it’s true. I’m late. I haven’t posted in almost two weeks–well, not counting this longish guest post I did for a really fun blog-event centered on dystopian and apocalyptic YA novels. If you haven’t read it, you can drop by , leave your thoughts–and enter a giveaway for ASHES (woot!)–until June 23.
I mean, honestly, I think that post counts. I just forgot to talk about it here.
Anyway, as you’ve noticed by now, I haven’t posted my May recommendations either. That’s not because I don’t have any but with everything going on–BEA, putting the finishing touches on ASHES (which is now launching in AUGUST, folks!!!), wrapping up my wip (FINALLY), watching my kid graduate from college on Memorial Day (she definitely rocks), getting ready for a research trip that I’m leaving for, like, tomorrow (ulp!), AND thinking ahead to my presentation for the Southeast Wisconsin Festival of Books (for anyone so inclined to head to Waukesha, I’ll be there both Friday and Saturday, June 17 & 18; doing a presentation on apocalyptic books and then a couple panels AND signings . . .) AND the ALA the week after (which is in New Orleans and, yes, they ARE monitoring the Mississippi; so far, the conference is a go) AND . . .
Well, you get the picture. It’s been really, really busy. And I’m good at time management. My husband still tells the kids about how I used to plan my life down to fifteen-minute blocks, writing out a schedule every morning and then sticking to it.
In light of all that, here’s what I’m gonna do in terms of my May recommendations. They’ll be bundled into my June recs; makes more sense to me than playing catch-up now. Honestly, I got a garden to get into the ground–oh, my baby tomatoes are calling–before I drive down to Chicago this evening to catch my flight tomorrow.
So, in lieu of all that, I’ll only say that I had a blast at the BEA, even though I saw very little of it. I was in and out pretty fast and really busy while I was there, but I’m not complaining. First off, I got to meet the ENTIRE ASHES team (whose pictures I posted already) and that was worth the trip right there. I’ve been so fortunate to have such great talent behind my books, both at Carolrhoda and now Egmont, that I can’t tell you what a treat it was/is to schmooze with people who are hard-working, enthusiastic, and indefatigable. Okay, okay, they do tire; by Wednesday, I saw more than my share of glazed expressions–and one was mine–but it was worth it. They warned me that I’d hit the ground running, and I did, pretty much. I made it to my hotel on Monday, very late afternoon, and just in enough time to have dinner with an old friend–and then I segued almost immediately to an indie press party that evening. The next day was a whirlwind of signings, booth appearances, a podcast, an Egmont family dinner.
The best part? I loved signing books. I loved meeting fans. I ADORED putting faces to screen names. The length of my signing lines just slayed me. Like . . . holy cow, where’d you all come from? Honestly, by Tuesday evening, when I was the very last person to finish up with signings because the line was just so LONG–my hand was completely cramped into this claw. I have this stack of business cards; I saw so many nice people! Like . . . wow.
So, yeah. That was fun. It was, in fact, fabulous and I want to send a HUGE THANK-YOU to everyone who stood in line(s) so patiently for so long. I love that some people like Hannah Gardner managed to capture moments like this and preserve them for me. (I don’t know about you guys, but either I was, like, mega-astonished or yapping . . . or catching flies. I vote for all three.)
Wednesday was just as jammed, although I spent virtually no time at the show. First off was a lovely booksellers breakfast, where I met some fabulously passionate people and got to talk about ASHES, my background and–most of all–find out from people who’d both read the book or were going to read it what they thought of it, me, why dystopians and apocalytpic novels are so big right now . . . In short, we talked books, and it just doesn’t get any better than that.
After the breakfast, I went to the show for a very brief turn around the floor. This thing is so huge and there were so many people, I felt the same way I did when I visited New York for the very first time. Like . . . wow. Look at all these people. Look at all these publishers and authors and READERS [humans, not machines 😉 ]. Yes, I ran into a couple folks who’d hung out in my signing lines the day before (thank you, Kat, for noticing my dress; you don’t know how long I agonized over what to wear for my trip to the BIG CITY). I heard Michael Moore being Michael Moore. I even caught a glimpse of Christopher Paolini and Tyra Banks–and I met Walter Dean MYERS (boing-boing-boing). But I also missed folks I’d wanted to see and say hi to (like James Dashner, who’s just the nicest guy, and Maggie Stiefvater, who is also a hoot, has more fans and friends than G-d, and is unfailingly gracious). But I didn’t have time, and–to tell the truth–I was a little glazed by then, having also stayed up way late to put the finishing touches on my guest post for the Dystopian Domination thing.
After an hour of stumbling in a fog–and scoring, exactly, one book :<P–I was swept up again by TEAM ASHES for several hours of video work. Now, other than a brief interview for a couple PBS stations and that one TMJ-4 thing I’ve already written about, I’ve never been in a studio for work like this. I mean–with a director. And make-up. And camera guys and sound guys and lights. I think it’s a good thing that I spent a large part of my misspent youth on stage and doing forensics, though. At one point, I was, like, SERIOUSLY thinking of a career in acting. I didn’t, ultimately, for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which was I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going to bed late most nights–assuming I was lucky enough to actually be cast in anything that would allow me to NOT waitress or have some other day job. I did acting on the side both in med school and then during my residency and fellowship; I still remember rehearsals for the very last play I was cast for–Crimes of the Heart–which, unfortunately, tanked (as in, never made it to peformance) for reasons I don’t recall at this point. But I do remember all my stage time and all those forensics competitions, and I think they came in handy for this video work. Or maybe I’m just a ham 😉 Which, if you know me, probably wouldn’t surprise you but sure as hell surprises me because I am, really, very shy. Really. I know; you’re rolling your eyes because you’ve heard this before. But I am. Put me in a room and give me a purpose, I’m fine. Put me in a room with a bunch of people and suggest that I, like, party or something, and I’m looking for the nearest corner.
Anyway–did the video stuff for three hours or so. It was a blast, and I loved the director, who was this very thoughtful guy. What was most interesting, though? I had forgotten how much 9/11 still resonates with people who actually LIVE in New York. Who were there. This is a big country, and when you’re far removed and time has passed, it’s easy to forget how horrified people must’ve been. Sure, you can watch the videos of that day (I always cry), but then you move on with your life. In New York and environs, that day has become the sore thumb that just won’t go away–an event that hangs around in an enduring way that I don’t think most of us appreciate. I know, I know; that’s a bald generalization. But I also don’t want to minimize the impact and importance of that day. In a way, I wonder if the aftermath is similar to what military families go through when their loved ones deploy. We all know there are wars going on, but if they don’t touch you in a personal way–if you’re not hanging a blue star in your window when a member of your family’s been deployed–it’s easy to go on without thinking much about it. 9/11 hangs around, I think, and it was really interesting to hear from this director about how that day’s changed him. He thinks about apocalypse; he’s planned for it (and in a way that some of the younger guys in the studio–people who were kids when it happened–haven’t). For this director, it was all about survival afterward–and inevitability.
You can say that’s kind of morbid. But I say: that’s reality. Cities are shells; civilization is fragile. If you know history at all, you understand how quickly things fall apart.
Anyway–that was the end of my time there. After the studio, it was off to the airport and then home. Twenty-four hours later, I was in the car, heading for my eldest’s college graduation. Met up with parental units, in-law and otherwise. Hung out with the kid and got her packed up in heat that made my eyeballs melt. The graduation fell on Memorial Day and by the end, I was feeling pretty okay. Not weepy or nostalgic at all, but excited for my kid who’s off on the next adventure in her life–and good for her.
As for the rest . . . well, you know what I’ve been up to. So I’ll leave you with this choice bit that I just happened to catch this morning on my way to Starbucks for my one in-house coffee of the week. You know, when this kind of thing happens–when I hear a bit on the radio that’s directly related to either a work-in-progress or a book I’m researching–it’s enough to make you believe in karma. So enjoy this segment of On Being (which used to be Speaking of Faith) featuring cosmologist Lord Martin Rees. Now before you do an eye-roll . . . no, I’m not trying to get you all into a god or religion or anything. I do think, though, that spirituality is hard-wired into our brains; we’ve always sought the transcendent, whether that’s the awe of peering through a microscope or teasing apart the genome, or wondering at one’s place in a very big universe. I forget who said it first, but cosmology and the spiritual share much in common because both seek to understand the universal in their own special ways. I was fortunate to catch this re-broadcast this morning and you can listen to the podcast here or read bits and pieces of Rees’s interview as a Twitterscript. Personally? Do yourself a favor. Spend an hour and just listen to the guy. Then go read one of his books. (Start with Just Six Numbers: The Deep Forces that Shape the Universe.)
Beyond all the great stuff Lord Rees says in this interview about multiverses, cosmic origami and alternative realities, three other things really stand out. The first is when he says that the human brain is, by far, the most complicated system we’ve ever tried to fathom and still haven’t. The second is that an understanding of the universe may have to wait for some species most advanced than us to evolve here.
And the third? Great quote: “It’s better to read good science fiction than second-rate science.”
Right on.
