Beth Kephart's Blog, page 94

Dr. Radway, Will Nash, and the Parrott Library Honor Award

We are reviewed, in this life, by professional critics, by the Amazon anonymous, by the Goodreads communities, by the whispers we'll never hear, by the book clubs that decide yes or no, by the bloggers, by our friends.

Now and again, we hear from younger readers.

This morning I heard from Will Nash, a student in the St. Albans Lower School of Washington, DC., who had some glorious things to say about Dr. Radway, which was one of three books given the 2014 Parrott Library Honor Award (the other two being The Kill Order and Wonder).

I was finishing work on the Florence novel when the news of this generous honor came in. I was, in fact, fixing some of the book's many details. And so you will appreciate how much I loved Will's immaculate review, especially these words:

If you enjoy envisioning scenes in your head, it is a great book because Beth Kephart loves to go crazy with details.

I hereby declare, for now and forever, that I will always go crazy with details—and think of Will Nash when I do.

For more on Dr. Radway—and much more from Will—please click on this link. Thank you, St Albans Lower School, for choosing to read a book about my own city, Philadelphia.

Going Over: The Trailer, The News

Sometimes, a whole lifetime's worth of specialness happens in a few short days.

Those few short days were these past few days. That Handling the Truth/Meredith Vieira moment in New York City, that trip to see old friends and make new ones in South Carolina. And the gifts leading up to the release of Going Over.

First, today, I want to thank the extraordinary Chronicle team—for everything, really. But in particular, for the trailer, above. I had no idea a trailer was in the works. It just arrived one day. It is perfect, in my eyes, in every way.

Second, the news, which is here, below:

School Library Journal Pick of the Day

Junior Library Guild Selection

iBooks Spring’s Biggest Books 

An Amazon Big Spring Book

“A stark reminder of the power of hope, courage, and love.”—Booklist, starred review

“An excellent example of historical fiction focusing on an unusual time period.” —School Library Journal, starred review

"Going Over carefully balances love and heartbreak, propelling readers through the story."— Shelf Awareness

"Readers will finish the book and continue to think about how effective one wall can be in separating a country and in fashioning attitudes toward life." —Reading Today

"At once compelling and challenging... this gripping effort captures the full flavor of a trying time in an onerous place." —Kirkus Reviews

 “A profound read meant for discussion.” —VOYA: Voice of Youth Advocates

"Gritty, painful and lovely."--Emma, age 17, SLJ Teen, Young Adult Advisory Councils Reviewer

Some very generous bloggers have agreed to participate in a blog tour that will kick off when the book officially launches on April 1. I've written pieces about history, graffiti, titles, editing—and I'll be answering questions—throughout it all.

Scenes from Greenville and Spartanburg, South Carolina: quiet glories

What a glorious part of the country Greenville and Spartanburg, South Carolina, proved to be. And what enormously generous hosts I had in my friends Susan Tekulve and Rick Mulkey. We walked, we talked, we taught, we ate, we found flowers, fresh and unsnowy. In the process, I met incredible students and community members, read from Going Over, Flow, and Nest. Flight. Sky., and shared some thoughts about the writing life.

And then there was this: I saw old friends. The glorious Carolyn Wilson Baughman, of whom you last heard when I was in Asheville, NC, for her sister, Katherine's, wedding. The incredible Lois Carlisle, of whom I spoke after returning from the National YoungArts program in Miami. And Lisa Hammond (and her friend Joyce)—Lisa being the mom of another terrific National YoungArts scholar, Laura Rashley, and a poet herself.

So much good feeling. So many indelible memories. An early spring.

Thank you, Susan, Rick, Converse College, friends and community.

Handling the Truth Wins Books for a Better Life/Motivational Category Award—and I meet Meredith Vieira and Lee Woodruff

The thing is: I had already won.

I had been invited to the 18th Annual Books for a Better Life Awards Program, sponsored by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society New York City—Southern New York Chapter. I was seeing friends—Darcy Jacobs, nominee Patty Chang Anker, Katie Freeman, Julia Johnson, my Gotham editor, Lauren Marino. My husband had joined me for the evening, our sensational son had left work to see us an hour before, Jenny Powers, VP of Special Events for the Society, had put on an amazing show of truly exceptional everythings at The TimesCenter. I had a new pink dress, those famous new shoes, and Maggie Scarf, the bestselling author, was telling my husband and me a story that held us both in captive disbelief. Soon I would go down that long flight of stairs and find the fabulous Lee Woodruff in the bathroom. We would speak of pink dresses, pink scarves, the sometimes good luck of fashion.

Earlier in the day, the phenomenal team at Chronicle Books had posted the stunning new trailer for Going Over, my soon-to-be-launched Berlin novel. School Library Journal had named Going Over the Pick of the Day. Laura Fraser of Shebooks had sent sweet news. The weather was kind. Only most of my hair was a mess.

And so I settled back into my chair at The TimesCenter simply to watch the show. To be grateful for it all. To be unencumbered, for that moment, by doubt. The first category of ten to be announced was the Motivational category. Handling the Truth: On the Writing of Memoir, a book about the students I love and the things they have taught me, sat (remarkably) alongside The Novel Cure (Ella Berthoud and Susan Elderkin), Saturday Night Widows (Becky Aikman), Survival Lessons (Alice Hoffman), and On These Courts (Wayne B. Drash). Meredith Vieira—gorgeous Meredith Vieira—was looking stunning up there on the stage, post Sochi, post Oscars. She was reading off the nominees, then opening an envelope, and then—and then—she called my name.

I have never been so unprepared for anything in my life. I had not, for a single second, rehearsed the possibility of the moment; winning was out of the question. I had a wide stage to cross, and by the time I reached the microphone and Meredith's outstretched arms, I had been rendered incapable of speech. I have absolutely no idea what words I finally said. I know only that I told Meredith how beautiful she really is (inside and out). I know that I struggled to find words for the beauty of my students. I know I said "son" and "husband" and "Gotham" and "dreams."

(How grateful am I to Lauren Marino, Lisa Johnson, Beth Parker, and the entire Gotham team for saying yes to this book in a seaside nano-second. And a million thanks to my agent, Amy Rennert, who has supported this book from the second it arrived in her to-be-read bin.)

Afterward, when all the winners gathered on stage for a Publishers Weekly photograph, I had an opportunity to speak with Meredith, to learn more about her upcoming new program, The Meredith Vieira Show. It is going to be wonderful because she is through-and-through wonderful. A real show, real conversations, a set that recreates her own family room, her own interests, pursued. Look for it come Labor Day.

I end this as I must end this—with prayers for those who are living with and seeking to combat multiple sclerosis, a haunting condition about which important words were spoken last night. Without organizations like the New York City—Southern New York Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society—organizations that work throughout the year to raise awareness and research dollars, bring together authors and publishers, put leading lights like Meredith Vieira, Lee Woodruff, Arianna Huffington, Pamela Paul, Mark Bittman, and Richard Pine on one stage, and gather friends—hope would not loom so large.  

I have never been so proud to bring an honor home.

I head to South Carolina in a few hours to serve as the Elizabeth Boatwright Coker Distinguished Writer at Converse College. This is the week of a lifetime.

Berlin Wall Music Monday: 99 Luftballoons

Long before I went to Berlin I was singing and dancing to "99 Luftballoons/99 Red Balloons" (both the German and English versions were on the record my husband had bought while in graduate school at Yale).

It wasn't until I began to research and write Going Over, the Berlin novel that launches in three weeks, that I understood the greater significance of the song. Its rhythms filter into Ada's dreams. Its possibilities filtered into mine.

Here is part of the story, as presented by Object Retrieval.

"99 Luftballons" is a Cold War-era protest song by the German singer Nena. Originally sung in German, it was later re-recorded in English as "99 Red Balloons".

"99 Luftballons" reached #1 in West Germany in 1983. In 1984, the original German version also peaked at #2 on the American Billboard Hot 100 chart and the English-language version topped the UK Singles Chart. The German version topped the Australian charts for five weeks and the New Zealand charts for one week.

While at a Rolling Stones concert in Berlin, Nena's guitarist Carlo Karges noticed that balloons were being released. As he watched them move toward the horizon, he noticed them shifting and changing shapes, where they looked nothing like a mass of balloons but some strange spacecraft. (The word in the German lyrics "UFO") He thought about what might happen if they floated over the Berlin Wall to the Soviet sector.

Both the English and German versions of the song tell a story of 99 balloons floating into the air, triggering an apocalyptic overreaction by military forces. The music was composed by Uwe Fahrenkrog-Petersen, the keyboardist of Nena's band, while Karges wrote the original German lyrics.

A.S. King on being A.S. King, on her birthday

A.S. King (we call her Amy) and I met a long, freaking time ago in a town call Lititz. She was wearing rubber boots and talking about chickens. She had interesting things to say, said them interestingly. I found her intelligence and wildly sui generis life story daunting, frankly (especially as compared to mine), and I liked her all the more for being her.

In Philadelphia, at an NCTE cocktail party, there she was (What are you drinking? This is what I'm drinking.). On an asphalt drive in Orlando (I'm heading that way? You heading this way?). We took an epic drive across our sweet PA together. I found her flocked by loving fans in Boston (twice). At Chester County Books, at Children's Book World, at events large and small—there was Amy. She gives good readings. She gives thrilling talks. Ask any librarian at the fated event in western PA. I leapt to my two well-heeled feet. (Tears in my eyes.)

Today is Amy's birthday. Today we're celebrating this fearless writer with the legions of fans whose books have earned enough stars to fill a separate galaxy, whose talks get people going, whose very personage wakes up a room. A few days ago she wrote a blog post called "Who's Afraid of A.S. King" that is so smart, so unafraid, so laying it on the line that it deserves many second readings.

Here's what we don't need in The Land of YA: Writers Who Write To Pre-Package-able Themes. Writers Who See Writing As A Halfway Step Toward Bigger Things. Writers Who Religiously Reproduce The Formula—Their Own Or Someone Else's.

A.S. King has never pre-packaged, gone halfway, fit a formula, and we love her for that. Check out that blog post. Check out her books. And wave her a happy birthday for me.

Pictured above: Yours Truly, A.S. King, and K.M. Walton, at Children's Book World.

sky high: reading the new memoirs of 135.302 '14

Memoir. There are no rules. There are only the books that we learn from, the writing that shapes us, the mistakes we are willing to make, the unmasking. Each semester, I teach memoir new because it is always new, because there is always more to read, to try, to consider.

And then I sit, as my students head off for their spring break, their memoirs in my lap. And I am stunned by the hard work, the right risks, the bold tangents, the questions raised and sometimes answered. They are off. I am here. Their lives on paper.



How they have walked deep among the trees. How they have honored the form, themselves, one another. How deeply privileged I am. Always.

This rare teaching life.

These vast and lovely spring semesters.

Them.

Books for a Better Life Awards — at The TimesCenter

It is just like me not to know where I am going until a few hours before my going time. I don't know. It is, perhaps, the way I deal with gnawing nerves.

And so it isn't until just now, this very moment, that I realize that the Books for a Better Life Awards program, for which my humble Handling the Truth has been nominated, will be taking place at The TimesCenter. I've ambled near this building during many of my trips to New York City. I've never been to an event here, never been near the stage. I don't know how I got so lucky to be included in this special evening, which is honoring Mark Bittman and Richard Pine, featuring Meredith Vieira and Arianna Huffington, and in support of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, Southern New York Chapter.

I don't know, but suddenly I'm so glad that I decided to buy a new pink dress and new nude pumps. Because I'm all over winter. Because that stage is so pretty, so bright. Because, in my own small life, these chances come around so rarely. Because I am going to live the night.

Mary Oliver reading "Wild Geese"

The poem "Wild Geese" may be the most generous poem ever written. I have read it dozens of times. But not until this morning did I search for a recording of the poem—for the image or sound of Mary Oliver reading the words herself. I find this quiet recording stunning.
This is for Kea. She knows why.

book blast from the past: a special reference-librarian-made display at Converse College

(Thank you, Reference Librarian. Thank you, Susan Tekulve.)
For those of you who didn't know me when I was actually younger than I am today—that is my second memoir, Into the Tangle of Friendship, as well as my fourth, Seeing Past Z: Nurturing the Imagination in a Fast-Forward World, nested in with Handling the Truth.
I eagerly anticipate my time with Converse students and the Converse community—not to mention friends, old and new.