Beth Kephart's Blog, page 307

They asked me questions...

Had I ever had a mentor? What did I read when I was young? Had I ever published a book in which there were mistakes? How could I be sure that I wasn't copying anyone? What is the difference between an essay and a memoiristic essay? How long does it take to write books? Where does one go for ideas? How many times had I ever given a talk? Had I ever met Stephanie Meyers? Was I friends with J.K. Rowling? How does it feel to...?

And then, this morning, this: How do you get people to give you cr...

Hospitality, Thy Name is Fox Cities

Late last night (or was it early this morning?), I returned from my whirlwind trip to Appleton, Wisconsin, where I talked to school assemblies, workshopped with young writers, answered the questions of artful high schoolers, and conducted two intensive memoir-writing workshops with truly dear and talented adults. It was an experience like none other—immaculately coordinated by Judith Owen and carried forward by a team of prompt, thoroughly generous souls including Beth Carpenter, Pat Wucki, ...

The simple gain: from (that) work in progress

He wore his shorts long and his sandals straight through October, when finally he'd trade them in for his deconstructed Doc Martens, ten years old and split down two seams. She'd met him at Café Conversation, his cousin's place, where he put such a sugar lip of sweet on the chocolate face of each espresso that the clientele called it candy. Give me some of that candy, Vin. He talked without smash and fraction, without contradiction, without the undercutting hurry of...

Wisconsin Bound/Fox Cities Book Festival

I'm Wisconsin bound, and those in the know are telling me that Wisconsin is the place to be. Wonderful people, I'm told. Well-read people. Nice people. I shall keep those goodnesses close to my heart as I travel to Little Chute Public Library, Roosevelt Middle School, Madison Middle School, West High School, Kaukauna Public Library, New London Middle School, Appleton Public Library, and East High School.

Mutuality

I walked the empty Horse Show grounds because no one said I couldn't, because there was just one man, on a high roof, painting white whiter. "Hey," I said. "Do you mind?" And he said, "Why should I?" That's the way it should be, I think: Two people, co-existing, bothering no one.

Ageless

In my travels, I found this tree—split and chunked away from itself, crooked and ungainly, and still capable of green. I felt myself a kindred soul. Leave me be for just an hour, ask nothing of me, and I stir inside with story. I don't know how old I look to the world outside. When I am writing I feel ageless.

Effervescent Spring

(I run from blooming tree to blooming tree, afraid that the next day the blooms will be gone.)

The Heart is Not a Size (and the Devon Horse Show)

In The Heart is Not a Size, Georgia and Riley have a tradition of visiting the Devon Horse Show each year. As always, the event is held at the end of May. Today, I went and took a walk around, while craftsmen painted and big trucks spread their new white snow of sand.

In which Colleen Mondor (of Chasing Ray) surprises me, sweetly

I don't, as many of you know, look for reviews of my own books, but every now and then one will filter in, and sometimes I'll be reading a favorite blog and come up short against my own name.

That's what happened a few minutes ago, when I was checking in with Chasing Ray, where I've had the privilege of appearing from time to time in a truly wonderful series of Colleen Mondor orchestrated think-a-thons.

I was reading along, about wish lists for Navajo and Apache teens and other typically impor...

From this writer's desk

Inkpop, the tres cool HarperCollins aspiring writers' and book lovers network, asked me a few questions about writing from the heart. I answered them here.