Beth Kephart's Blog, page 88

some publishing news

As reported in PW Children's Bookshelf, April 28, 2014:

Tamra Tuller at Chronicle has acquired two books by NBA-nominated author Beth Kephart. Set in Florence, Italy, One Thing Stolen follows Nadia Cara as she mysteriously begins to change. She's become a thief, she has secrets she can't tell, and when she tries to speak, the words seem far away.This Is the Story of You takes place in an island beach town in the aftermath of a super storm; Mira, a year-rounder stranded for weeks without power, hopes to return storm-tossed treasures to their rightful owners, and restore some sense of order to an unrecognizable world. Publication is scheduled for spring 2015 and spring 2016; Amy Rennert of the Amy Rennert Agency did the deal for world rights.

one of the most beautiful things ever—a Sister Kimberly Miller (and Kathleen, Julia, Amber) production

Post by Kimberly Miller.

Trust me. Just trust me. Click on that link above. And find a piece of magic that means so much to me. Thank you, Sister Kimberly Miller and your girls — Kathleen, Amber, Julia — for sharing this evening with me. For remembering this evening with me. For giving this to me.

Oh my. A launch for forever  — on a day of such flooding weather that Noah himself would have felt intimidated.

Diane Keaton and Around the World: Small Damages and Going Over on the Barnes and Noble Book Blog

Yesterday, while I watched the rain pound the world around me (and awaited the watery launch of Going Over at Radnor Memorial Library), a note rose up on Twitter, alerting me to this great gift from Dahlia Adler on the Barnes & Noble Book Blog.

The title of the post: Around the World in Eight YA Novels. Dahlia, amazingly, noted both Small Damages and Going Over:

Small Damages, by Beth Kephart
One of my favorite literary writers of YA, Kephart has beautifully re-created the Spanish countryside for this contemporary novel about a teenage girl who’s exiled from her American home in order to hide the secret of her pregnancy. She leaves no sensation unexperienced, from the feel of the earth to the scent of oranges, and it’s hard to imagine getting any closer to Seville without a passport. (Kephart’s newest, Going Over, which alternates between East and West Germany, is another excellent candidate for this list.)

Incredible words, and I am so grateful.

I am also grateful this morning to that clay artist, Karen Bernstein, who not only graced the table last evening with her amazing Berlin vessel, but who carried a copy of Handling the Truth to New York City, where Diane Keaton was in the 92nd Street Y House. Keaton's memoir Then Again is featured in Handling. I'd always wanted the great actress to have a copy. Last night Karen made that happen. "Signed. Sealed. Delivered.," Karen wrote at the end of her day. This morning, Karen wrote again to say that Diane Keaton had used the word "honored" when Karen gave that bright orange memoir book to her.

One last very cool thing, and then I'm off to read and celebrate the books of others. My agent, Amy Rennert, called a few days ago with the exceptional news that Rich Green, an esteemed film agent who has represented Jonathan Franzen, Matthew Quick, Anne Rice, Andrea Creamer, and others, has agreed to represent Going Over.

A good day. A good life.

despite end-of-the-world quality rain, we had a GOING OVER party

You could say that I have pretty lousy book-launch party luck. Once, for example, a short first printing left us with only a handful of books for the book party. Once we launched the book on the very same night that every available parking space had already been consumed by another event, sending some would-be party goers home.

And then there was last night—24 hours or so into an historic deluge that had drains busted, streets flooded, cars stranded, basements swimming. This was the GOING OVER launch day. My email kept pinging with notes from people who had planned to come but couldn't. Oh dear, I thought. Oh, my. Because who would drive flooded streets in dark, unstopping rain for a book? Who would dare float toward Berlin?

You could say that I have lousy luck, but I'm not going to claim that here. Because the fact is this: despite impossible weather that demanded all variety of rubber foot gear, we had a party. Pam and Molly of Radnor Memorial Library are famous for their generosity, and there they were again—gracious, open-hearted, slicing into that cake. Beside that cake stood the GOING OVER vessel my clay-arts friend, Karen Bernstein, had made.

And in the audience—because we did have an audience—were my father and husband, neighbors of now and a dear neighbor of then, long-time friends, fellow writers, a Berlin scholar and a Berlin traveler, the inimitable Kevin Ferris of the Inquirer, three sweet-and-smart-as-heck Little Flower Catholic High School students (Kathleen, Amber, Julia) and their Sister Kim, and a Radnor High contingent—Rib, Jim, Tom—who had orchestrated a sweet surprise. They look precisely the same as they did those years ago. I could not believe it.

Then there was Heather, that gorgeous young woman featured above, who was the inspiration for Ada in GOING OVER. Her face. Her deep connection to color and life. Some of the secrets she once whispered into my ear while I sat in her hair-salon chair. I love that I can show you who she is, right here. Ada is one of my favorite characters, and Heather is even greater than fiction.

Those who came last night had to brave the weather. They had to decide to leave their homes in a sinking mess of a day and make the drive. Sister Kim and her girls ultimately spent three hours in a car. Soup had to drive the highways. My father had to dodge the flooded potholes. Kevin had to walk a long block in soaking rain.

Everyone had to disregard the police barrier that signaled that, due to excessive rains, the road to the library was closed.

It was not closed. Pam and Molly made sure of that.

(And Children's Book World made sure we had books!)

Afterward, my dear friends Elizabeth Mosier and Kelly Simmons treated me to their glorious selves, their raucous laughter, pizza, white wine. But let's get back to their "glorious selves" part.

Thank you. Everyone. For coming. Thank all of you who would have been there if you could. I really believe in this story, GOING OVER. But more than that, I believe in you.

rain or shine, we're launching GOING OVER

There's plenty of rain out there, stripping the cherry trees of their pinks, heavying the heads of tulips, flooding the low plateaus of my brief driveway.

But inside all is color as I prepare for the launch of Going Over, my Berlin novel. Karen Bernstein, who surprised me earlier this month with a birthday celebration at the Wayne Art Center, has been at work on this vase for a long time now. She's a clay artist of the highest order. She read the book while it was still in galley form. She studied images of the actual graffiti on the Berlin Wall and made this pot — West Berlin, then East Berlin, 1983.  See that arrow up there? It's symbolic. See those flowers? Incredibly gorgeous. They fight the rain. They elevate my mood. They say love, in so very many ways.

I wish you could meet Karen and see for yourself what a special and uber talented person she is. She is, however, now in a car, headed to NYC, where she will meet Diane Keaton (whom I love so much that I celebrated her in Handling the Truth) at the 92nd Street Y. Karen has a lot of Diane in her. The two could probably talk forever. If they did, or when they do, Diane K. will be enchanted.

Those of you here, near, those of you able to slip out with all this rain, come join us for cake at Radnor Memorial Library, Winsor Room, 7:30 PM.

Berlin Wall.

Friends.

Family.

A little Springsteen, too. 

on teaching fiscal responsibility, and on saying goodbye

A few days ago, we watched our son's old Honda Accord being towed away by its newest owner. The car had come into our son's life with more than 100,000 miles on it. It had left with some 112,000 miles total. He'd had it for seven years. He'd love it, like most guys (and girls) love their cars.

So had we. That silver car with the fancy spoiler had gotten him back and forth to his jobs, his internships, his last year of high school, his friends, his hang-outs. The ole '98 was never out of fashion, sported a single bumper sticker, could not be heard complaining about its arthritic passenger side door, was always there, through every holiday, every coming home, to take him somewhere he wanted to be.

It had kept him safe.

It hurt to watch the car clanking away, on the back of a truck. It signaled the end of many things.

I wept a few tears.

But sometimes we have to trade out nostalgia for life lessons. We have to weigh the pros and cons, the realities and dreams, and decide. Our son is a now a New York City, basement studio, great-first-job-but-oh-is-the-budget-tight guy. He has learned, because he has had to, how to track expenses, how to make responsible choices, how to not do this in favor of later doing that. These are the lessons he must learn, and must learn on his own. It'd be easier, often, to fly in there as his white knight-ess, to paper over gaps, to fill the piggy bank.

That short-term give would feel great to both of us.

But what would it yield, in the end?

It was time to sell the car. The few thousand dollars that it netted would help preserve a dwindling savings account, help pay the increased rent, help save the day for a little while more. The money would be his—earned by a choice that he had made.

He drove the car one final time.

He said goodbye, and then we did.

One more hard, essential lesson on the road to independence.

Some GOING OVER news—from Common Sense Media and Booklist

Today, as I worked on the Going Over launch presentation, I learned that the book has received a five-star review from Common Sense Media.

Parents need to know that Beth Kephart's Going Over portrays harsh experiences on both sides of the Berlin Wall in the early 1980s: political oppression, of course, along with murder, rape, depression, and domestic abuse. Though the violence is described in small details and references, it's gut-wrenching and emotionally difficult. Yet the overall tone of the story is of strength and hope. It's an intense, absorbing read that shows how the personal and political can be fused together, and how small, personal acts can have life-changing implications for many people. Teens who stick with the challenging prose will be richly rewarded with a unique, passionate story illuminating a fascinating time and place.

This news joins the news I received late last week that Booklist had named Going Over a Top Ten Historical Fiction for Youth.

The sort of news that matters so deeply to writers like me.

Three Days to Remember: my mother, my friends, my girls, my seaside, poems, words

Everything about this weekend was perfect.

On Friday evening I joined my father at Villanova University, where my mother was being honored by artist Niko Chocheli. This was shortly after learning that my fabulous nephew has chosen to attend a very fine college not far from my own home. The kind of news any aunt would want to hear.

On Saturday, after writing a Going Over poem for a certain band of students who will be reading this Berlin novel over the summer, I had the immense privilege of visiting Little Flower Catholic High School for Girls on behalf of the first-ever, immaculately well-run Teen Writers Festival. All thanks to Sister Kimberly Miller and K.M. Walton, who organized the day, to the girls who came, to the families who encouraged them, and to my fellow rocking writers. The community strengthens. The friendships grow.

I read, and was deeply moved by, the portraits my own students at Penn created about people who matter to them. Something essential happens when we stop to remember. When we ask. When we listen. When we evoke. History of impressions.

My story about pre-season/post-storm Beach Haven appeared in the Sunday Philadelphia Inquirer, sharing a front cover page with Philadelphia's own archbishop, one of those small coincidences that makes a writer smile.

A poem I wrote appeared on Serena Agusto-Cox's blog here, in honor of National Poetry Month.

Words I'd once written about the young adult label were quoted alongside the thoughts of Lauren Oliver and Cornelia Funke in a very interesting New Straits Times story by Samantha Joseph, here. This was the second weekend in which something I'd said in one place was discovered (by Serena Agusto Cox) elsewhere. A week ago, the LA Times quoted me here, in this piece about Gina Frangello.

I received a gorgeous, handwritten (!) letter from Amy Gigi Alexander, a letter written while Amy sat in a cafe in the Petit Square of Tangiers. Amy, I could not be more honored by your words there. Treasured words, which will sit among treasured things.

And finally, but never ever ever finally, Bill and I spent yesterday afternoon with our beloved friends, John and Andra. John Bell was both conducting and directing Meredith Wilson's "The Music Man" at the Labuda Center for the Performing Arts at DeSales University, where John chairs the Performing and Fine Arts Department. It was a rich and wonderful performance. It was a perfect time with two very dear friends.

Today I sit preparing for the launch of Going Over at the Radnor Memorial Library, this coming Wednesday evening, 7:30. I hope you will join us.

Tomorrow I say goodbye to my students. That, my friends, is one of the hardest things I do.

Me and the Archbishop, in today's Inquirer (also, reflections on Beach Haven, after the storm)

"You're sharing the cover with the Archbishop," Kevin Ferris, my Philadelphia Inquirer editor wrote.

"Honored," I said.

Because, well, that's never happened before. And because this piece, on Beach Haven, off season, was a delight to both research (two nights at an inn, many walks through quiet streets, sunsets) and write.

What has Beach Haven become, these many months after the Super Storm? What does tenacity look like? How have the beaches been recombed, resifted, reshaped? What are the birds up to?

The link is here.

Little Flower Teen Writing Festival: what a day it was

Two friends meet for lunch and say, What if? What if we have a writing festival for the girls of Little Flower Catholic High? What if we invite 20 authors, offer the girls a chance to learn and workshop , have Kate Walton give the keynote, invite Children's Book World to sell books, and (simply, but never simply) bring this whole publishing thing back to where it belongs: readers connecting with writers connecting with readers.

Book joy.

This, above, is the day that was at the Little Flower Teen Writing Festival. Kate Walton giving the keynote and thanking the tremendous Sister Kim (whose vision this was). Girls in the gym cradling newly bought books as if they were gemstones. The uber talented and radiantly positive girls of my two workshops; some of the props that got us writing; Judy Schachner and me; campus blossoms.

I began this day writing this poem for the girls as they adopt Going Over as a summer read. I spent the rest of it smiling. This, my friends, is what writing is about. Creating stories for, and spending time with, readers who have been given a love for books by a teacher whose heart is huge.