David Lubar's Blog, page 7

I plunge over 200 stories

I just sent Beware the Ninja Weenies to my editor. We're finished with line edits, so the ms. is off to copy editing. This puts the total count of Weenies stories at 206. I have to admit a feeling of satisfaction, tinged with a bit of disbelief. That's a lot of stories. On top of which, there were plenty that didn't make the cut. I do have a contract for a 7th collection. So I'll have to keep the stories flowing. But I'll be working on a novel, first. It will be nice to stretch a bit and explore some ideas more deeply. But I will always love the short form.

Hardy Laurel

Who'd think, a mere thirty miles from my house, you'd find such amazing plants?



Every summer, for years, my wife has talked about going to see the mountain laurel. My response was less than enthusiastic, since I always figured it would be a long trip to some isolated part of PA, and there were plenty of other flowers around here to look at. Nope. It turned out they were ridiculously close -- in Mt. Pocono State Park -- and amazingly beautiful. I'm glad we finally went.




There's a lesson in here, but I'm sure I'll have forgotten it by next year.

Arf for arf's sake

Various versions of a potential politcal pun:

That Huntsman won't dog.
This Huntsman won't dog.
That Huntsman don't dog.
This Huntsman don't dog.

I just wanted to be the first to get it on the Internet. (I couldn't find any hits through Google when the pun invaded my mind.) I guess it could be made to work as a reference to diligence on the campaign trail. That's not important. What counts is that I have moved it from inside my skull to outside.

Lord of the Steel

I rarely take pictures with my phone, becasue it is ancient, and I don't have a great way of transferring them. But I was at a farmers' market Tuesday, in the shadow of the corpse of Bethlehem Steel, and the sight of ominous clouds behind the rusting tower was too amazing to leave uncaptured. It really looked like something out of Tolkien. And not one of the happy scenes.

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Happily, the a large part of the property has been turned into an arts center. Or an Orc rehab facility.

Whirled series?

This question has has bothered me since the very first -- oops, no, make that the second -- Weenie book hit the shelves.  They are treated as a series, but don't have any common characters or setting.  They share a format (short story) and a loosely-defined genre (weird), but little else, beyond their amazing covers.  (Thanks, Bill Mayer.)  So, I figured I'd poll the smarties who read my blog.  Please feel free to include a comment (even if you don't select "other").

       

View Poll: Do Weenies come in packs?

Preaching to the required

Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie has been dancing in the extremely low four-figure range of sales rank for a couple weeks, and looks like it might even make a visit down to the trips. While a part of this could be due to its being one of the non-dark (at least, on the surface) YA books out there at a time when dark vs. non-dark is getting attention, the main cause, I suspect, is that it is on a lot of summer-reading lists. In some cases, it is one option among anywhere from two to fifty choices. In other cases, it is a required book.

I feel both flattered and uneasy about this. Uneasy because a handful of kids will hate the book. (I'm optimist enough, or perhaps egotist enough, to feel it will be a tiny handful. Perhaps one of those cartoon hands, with only three fingers and a thumb. Or Barbie's hand, which holds almost nothing, much to Ken's dismay.) I'm flattered because a contemporary required book is often paired with a required classic. This allows me to impress my family by dragging them to the computer and pointing to the list where I'm paired with Farenheight 451, Of Mice and Men, or some other true classic. I am fortunate to have a wife and daughter who both know how to act suitably impressed.

One other cause for unease comes when I see the reading list accompanied by an assignment. Some kids have to write a summary of each chapter. Others have to find five metaphors, or keep a list of fully formed and flat characters. I realize there's a value to this, but I want readers to be immersed in my books. I feel uneasy when I picture a student reading my book with a pencil and notebook on hand. (Though I have to admit I get a kick out of some very cool assignments I've seen, such as mapping the plot to Joseph Campbell's outline for a hero's journey.) I feel most uneasy of all when I see students asked questions I'd be unable to answer. What's the theme of this book? Beats me. Katherine Paterson wrote an essay where she talked about the need for more flashlight readers (kids who are so hooked by a book that they'll keep going after the light are turned out) and fewer stop-light readers (kids who are asked to stop and analyze each line or passage). I'm not sure what the answer is to this. I suspect teachers and librarians might be loosely divided on the issue. In truth, I don't know enough about education to have a valid opinion. Maybe stopping to write a summary of each chapter is a good thing. Maybe it's a bad thing. I'm just not sure how it fits into the concept of summer reading. I suspect some of you will have thoughts on this.

Yikes -- I sort of got off topic. Not that I really had one.

There will be another flurry of sales in August, when the procrastinators realize it's time to start reading. This will be followed, a day or two before school starts, by a wave of "Where can I find this book online?" posts, as well as pleas for very specific information about parts of the book, on Yahoo Answers and other slacker hangouts.

But, really, unease aside, I have to thank all the folks who put me on their lists. It's pretty darn cool to be required reading. Oh, and if you stumble across this post in August because you Googled the title of the book and the word "theme," try "Small actions can have large consequences." It's not what I had in kind, but it fits. And if that information gets you a good grade, you can thank me by skipping Starbucks for a day or two and plunking down the money to buy a copy of the book.

Beyond belief

Yesterday, while the YA lit world was providing a second day of excellent responses to the Wall Street Journal's clueless rant against our work, I got up a little after 4:00 AM, cursed the darkness (we were out of candles), inserted a coffee IV into my arm (we were out of instant), and drove 100 miles or so to a high school in south Jersey (we were out of teleporters). I had been invited to be a judge for the senior project. The project, inspired by NPR's This I Believe has each students talk about a core belief. They speak for three minutes, and then answer questions. Seventeen times that day, my heart and soul were shredded, ripped, mended, elated, and bolstered by what these young people talked about. I heard stories that make the typical YA problem novel seem like a joy ride. But every one of these young speakers had found a belief that helped him or her cope. Every one was bound for college, heading into the next phase of their lives with career goals and dreams. Out of respect for their privacy, I won't share any potentially identifying details. But one young lady talked about learning, during the worst day of her life, that there were others far worse off. She took no joy in their suffering, but she took solace in knowing that things could be worse. During our question period, I asked her if she preferred happy or sad movies. She admitted liking both but preferring the sad ones. I had a feeling she'd make the same choice in books. This is just one peek into one aspect of the value of dark works. I wish I'd had time to chat with each student about favorite books. But I wasn't there to build a case for my fellow YA authors. I was there to give these young adults someone to speak to. I was there to be their audience. I can't wait to go back there next year.

Hear, hear!

I know I usually only talk about special months when I've made them up soley for my own benefit, such as Short Fiction Appreciation Month, but June is Audiobook Month. So, thi smonth, be sure to listen to something unsung. (That phrase just came to me. I think it has more potential. Maybe the audiobook awards could be called "Unsung Heroes." But I digress.)

Various thought about audiobooks:
My favorite audiobooks are the ones done by Bruce Coville's Full Cast Audio. It's amazing hearing a book come alive in a different format.
I narrated an audiobook, once. My semi-adequate efforts gave me even more admiration for people who do this on a regular basis.


Other stuff:
I just did my last school vsiit of the season. Now, I get to be a writer.

If you live near the Lehigh Valley, I'll be signing Attack of the Vampire Weenies at the Center Valley Barnes and Noble at the Promenade Shops, Saturday, June 4th, at 1:00 PM. I'll be at the Moravian Bookstore in Bethlehem next Friday evening. I'm not sure of the time, yet.

Launching into orbit (or obit)

Attack of the vampire Weenies post-launch "do" list:

1. Find out if it's too late to make a trailer.
2. Drop subtle hints that someone should nominate it for Quick Picks.
3. Get back to work on the next book.
4. Drop blatant hints, if suble ones don't work.
5. Actually get back to work, rather than just saying so on a blog entry.
6. Beg, if blatant hints fail.
7. Seriously, do something productive.
8. Check my email.
9. Google the book title.
10. Be amazed that lists nearly always end up wtih ten items.

Book launch!

A Fifth Serving of Tasty Tales

Sink your fangs into thirty-three tales filled with vampires, ghosts, mutant insects, cooties, gym teachers, and other horrors. You'll find stories about video games, football, ear buds, rain forests, vengeful dogs, and heroic cats. Learn why road crews never seem to do any work, see for yourself that no good deed goes unpunished, and take a roller-coaster ride you'll never forget.




Want to join the fun? Here are some tips for writing your own Weenie stories.


In the mood for something different? Try the Vampire Weenies Activity Kit.