Beth Kephart's Blog, page 306

Moving Past No

Today, in Elizabeth Mosier's class at Bryn Mawr College, I told stories about all those times the world has said no to me.  No, this book will never sell.  No, your writing sings too slow a song.  No you can't combine this with this other and hope to achieve that.  No, you can't make up a genre and expect that it will sell.  No, you can't color outside the lines.  No, we don't like the way you've colored within them.  No, we won't hire you for that job.  No, I do not wish to know you.  No, I ...

Two Thumbs Up to Today's Book Bloggers Convention Feature

Bloggers are my bridge to a bigger world.  Check out this Shelf Awareness story about the first-ever Book Bloggers Convention, where I will join some pretty incredible people on a panel.  I feel entirely special (I mean this) because I actually know one of the forces behind this event.  She's a friend (utterly), and her name (isn't it perfect?) is My Friend Amy.

Scenes from a party

With thanks to Elizabeth Mosier (author of My Life as a Girl and party thrower supreme), Christopher Mills, and their wonderful girls; Jay Kirk (author of the upcoming Kingdom Under Glass) and my dad; the fantastic people at Children's Book World, who provided not just the space and time, but this fab pinata; and all of those who took time from their busy schedules to join us for a memorable evening.

We're Having a Party! (and the BookPage review)

So this is actually a cake (can you believe that?) that the fine people at Clay's Creative Bakery made in preparation for the HEART party.  It made me smile when I picked it up just now.  Any of you who want a slice will need to call Children's Book World in Haverford, PA (610 642 6274) this afternoon and let them know that you are coming to the Elizabeth Mosier-orchestrated party, which begins tonight at 7 PM.

To make this gorgeous day even happier, a most talented and truly dear friend (we'l...

Writing for the guys

I walked the corridors of schools throughout Fox Cities wishing I'd written more books, wishing, especially, that I'd written the right books for young male readers.  They were so eager, so embracing, in the schools I visited—the first to raise their hands, the first to offer to read their work aloud (which is not to suggest that the girls weren't just as eager, in their own ways; the girls were remarkable, too).  One seventh grader ran behind me as I finished my morning here, to follow-up on...

Paul Harding, Tinkers, and Hope for the Soulful

There's a beautiful Motoko Rich story in today's New York Times about Paul Harding, his novel Tinkers, and his path to Pulitzer, which was paved by rejection letters, the assurance (by those in the know) that "nobody wants to read a slow, contemplative, meditative, quiet book," a $1,000 advance by Bellevue Literary Press (who has an "empathetic" reader at the helm), a rare blurb by Marilynne Robinson, Indie book store support (I love independent bookstores!!!!!!!!), and smart critics (go Laur...

In which I apologize to (and thank) Kathye Fetsko Petrie

This blog has a singular purpose:  To thank Kathye Fetsko Petrie, who is one of the greatest friends books (or a friend) could have, for taking my hot red Sony in the midst of this Philadelphia Book Festival moment and snapping this photo of Rita Williams-Garcia, yours truly, and Catherine Murdock.  Kathye undertook the endeavor at physical risk to herself (I didn't realize the stage was quite so high or inconvenient when I asked her if she might do it) and, well, I don't know:  I just wanted...

Why Do You Write?

I've been asked, again and again.

In Appleton, nothing could be clearer:  I write for the chance that writing gives me to come to know beautiful souls like these.

Philadelphia Book Festival

The morning has been broken wide by sun. The trees that hadn't bloomed before I left for Appleton are shockingly alive; everything is color. I'm hopping a train for Philadelphia in a few hours and walking, then, to the Philadelphia Book Festival, to see a few friends and to have the privilege of reading with Catherine Murdock and Rita Williams-Garcia.

A few days ago, in Appleton, a seventh grader asked what it is like to live the author life.

It's a privilege, I said. And I meant it.

On meeting Ted Kooser in a hotel lobby

I knew he'd be in Appleton, and I saw him, from time to time—a thorough gentleman without an arrogant air in the hotel lobby where the writers were staying. It isn't my way to interfere, to barge in, to announce. It was right enough with me that this former poet laureate was somewhere near.

But then the morning of my last day in Wisconsin, the elevator doors slid open and he was exiting while I was entering and I couldn't help it, I said: "I read your poems to my mother in the final days of...