Gayle Forman's Blog, page 7

NYC Teen Author Festival

March 14-20 – For more information, click here.

spring dates!

My fingers froze on the way to dropping the kids off this morning, but it's February 23rd, and I can see spring from here. It's still way, way far away, kind of blurry in the distance. But I see it. Hi, spring. *waves maniacally*

Aside from warmer weather, spring also means a new book, and time to unlock the chains to my desk. In other words, tours, appearances and general authorly fun. The schedule is just starting to firm up so a lot of the events are not yet confirmed. But generally, if I'm going somewhere for a conference, I'll also do a public event. Promise!

I'll update this as details come in.

*MARCH*

It all starts with the New York City Teen Author Festival, David Levithan's superawesome yearly festival of YA-fabulousness, which runs from March 14-20th and has 76 (!) authors, including, but not limited to: Lisa McMann, Holly Black, Melina Marchetta, Elliot Schrefer, Judy Blundell, Libba Bray, Maggie Stiefvater, Barry Lyga, Rita Williams-Garcia, Natalie Standiford, E. Lockhart, and Michael Northrop. For the entire schedule, click here. Meanwhile, my Teen Author Festival events are as follows:

Tuesday, March 15, YA Reader's Theater

B&N Union Square, 7-8:30

Join me and fellow authors Holly Black, Judy Blundell, Eliot Schrefer (aka E. Archer) and host David Levithan as we act out scenes from one another's books. And the Oscar goes to….

Thursday, March 17, Five Borough Read 10-12

Central Branch, Brooklyn Public Library, Dweck Auditorium, 10 Grand Army Plaza

With fellow authors: Cathleen Bell, Christopher Grant, Melissa Kantor, Jeri Smith-Ready and Melissa Walker.

**APRIL**

Tuesday, April 5th, WHERE SHE WENT comes out!! GO BUY YOUR COPY! (Please). NYC launch event, to be announced! Stay tuned, chickadees.

Wednesday, April 14th-Thursday, April 15th, Austin, TX. Texas Library Association Annual Conference.

For more information, click here.

Coming soon, a public reading in Austin, TX during the conference. Details to be announced soon. Stay tuned.

Saturday, April 30-Sunday, May , L.A. Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. Details on panels and times coming soon. Or check back here.

Additional L.A. public reading to be announced soon.

***MAY***

May 8-11, Orlando, FL. International Reading Association Annual Convention

Panel discussion on Sex and Drugs and Rock & Roll in books teens love. For more info on the convention, click here.

Also, to come, public reading, somewhere in Florida. Helpful, I know. Again, stay tuned.

at least it's not bedbugs

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We've been having a little problem with head lice in our household.

No great surprise there. It's epidemic in New York City schools, and both my kids are young, prime let-me-hug-you-head-to-head age, and both go to schools that have decided not to check for lice, not to send kids home who have the bugs or the nits. So they bring the critters home. They give them to me (lice love curly hair, and contrary to myth, they love black-people hair, too; ask my African daughter). And then we go to all these ridiculous lengths to get rid of them—paying the Hasidic ladies to  pick them out for us, picking them out ourselves using gobs of Pantene and a fine-tooth comb, using the chemical shampoo, blow drying Cetaphil cleanser into our hair, washing everything in the apartment, putting the poor American Girl doll in the freezer. It works. We have lice remission. Then someone has a sleepover and we start all over again.

It's a pain in the neck. Literally. Or maybe an itch in the neck. But such is life in NYC. Though some people here are in denial. Apparently one ritzy public school also doesn't do checks, not, like our school, because they are too expensive but because parents there don't want to believe lice happens to their kind. Apparently when parents there find out their kids are infected they say things like "My child can't have lice. Don't you know what I do?"  That cracks me up. Like do the uber rich have bouncers bugs that hang out on their children's hair, keeping the riffraff parasites away?

But as I battle these annoying little creatures, as I'm elbow-deep in Pantene and waist-deep in laundry, I find myself thinking: "At least it's not bedbugs."

See, New York City is also in the midst of a bedbug epidemic. And because I'm soo cutting edge, I already had bedbugs, back in my old apartment, in 2005. (Apparently some people are cagey about discussing such things, as if they reflect badly on their personal hygiene or something. I am not. Though I have already shared publicly about my lack of showering on this blog so….Whatever.  I'm pretty sure I got my bedbugs from being a world traveler, back in the day. Or from having the wood floors redone.)

Unlike lice, bedbugs are insanely hard to get rid of, and New Yorkers live in fear of getting them. And simply by writing "At least it's not bedbugs," I sort of wonder if I've just jinxed myself into getting them.

And it occurs to me that those two sentiments—"At least it's not bedbugs"—and "Shit, did I just doom myself to a certain fate of bedbugs by saying that?"—so perfectly illuminate the writer's state of mind.

Being a writer, among other things, means a constant shifting of one's expectations, and, if you're halfway healthy about it, a constant talking one's self out of disappointments. Book didn't do as well as you'd hoped? Well, there's always the next one. Manuscript not working? There's always revisions. Nobody showed up to your reading? Well, Glee is on tonight. Even if your career is going well, being a writer, or an artist of any kind, I think, requires a delicate dance of expectation management. Managing your own expectations, your readers, the people you work with. And considering that your fates rise and fall and rise again with every new book, new project, this requires some fancy footwork, some serious psychological outsmarting of yourself. A lot of "Well, at least it's not bedbugs." No matter how well things are going, there are always things you can feel insecure about. But no matter how insecure you're feeling, there are always things to feel positive about. Because lice are lice; they aren't bedbugs. You have to always focus on that. Lumps happen. Rejection, little and big, is a daily part of what we do. But if you can talk yourself out of the fact that it's not bedbugs, you've won half the battle. (And if you do get bedbugs, then you take it a step further. At least it's not giant rats. There's always something worse than what you've got! If you have giant rats, you probably have really cheap rent! Etc, etc.)

But  there's another half of the battle. We writers are a superstitious lot. So even saying things aren't as bad as they seem almost seems to invite the furies. (Or maybe this isn't all writers. Maybe this is me. When you read Where She Went, perhaps Adam's superstitious side will make some sense.) But I think a lot of us are waiting for the shoe to fall. Anyone's who has tasted a little bit of success has to look over their shoulder, wonder why me? Or how did I fool them? Or how long of a head start till they catch on? In other words, Now that I said it's not bedbugs, what is that suspicious pattern of bite marks on my arm? Better go check the mattress for blood stains.

Obviously, this is a glimpse into the darker side of the process. There is so much that is wonderful to this life and so much that we writers grateful about. (In a nutshell: you guys.) But just in case you're wondering, we are totally insecure creatures, too. Even those who from the outside have big shiny stamps of approval on them. The more I talk to people, the more I realize, everyone is like this. Which is so comforting. It's like knowing the whole class has lice, too (they do! It's why it keeps getting recycled!).

Anyhow, sorry to ramble. I'm sleep deprived. I have been battling lice. And  feverishly writing a novel that I have shown to no one. A novel that my wonderfully discerning editor may or may not choose to publish. I don't know.  In less than two months I have a new book coming out that readers may or may not embrace. These are factors out of my control. Whatever happens, I'll find a way to absorb it. I will find a way to look at the bright side, to manage my ever-changing expectations. Because at least it's not bedbugs. Right?

regularly scheduled programming

Our regularly scheduled blog will return. Soon, I promise.

Sorry for the radio silence but I'm cooking on a draft of a new book. Which might be my next book. Might wind up on the trash heap of my hard drive. But I'm kind of obsessed. Which is good? Right?

In the mean time, allow me to show you a picture of flowers and cake:

Happy Valentine's Day, all.

XX

Gayle

contests and such

So, we have some winners for the ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS contests.

And, very exciting news, Stephanie Perkins was so overwhelmed with the responses that she decided to give out TWO signed copies of ANNA. That Steph, she's so sweet that way.

So the winners of the signed books are:

Samantha Cheng, who had this comment:

Hi!!!

I keep putting this book on hold in my city's library but apparently a bunch of people are doing the same thing so I haven't read it yet!!! Hopefully the next person who gets the book is me and if that really happens (cross fingers) I'll read it right away and enter the quiz!!!

*hope* *cross fingers some more* *JUMP UP AND DOWN*

And Chelsea, who had this comment:

I would LOVE to get my hands on this book. I just stumbled across Stephanie's blog last year, and I'd be SO excited to have a signed copy of Anna and the French Kiss, about which I have heard so many wonderful things. My fingers are crossed.

Apparently, crossed fingers actually worked this time.

The Jacques Torres chocolates, go to Cori Bair. I gotta give all you ANNA readers props. More than 30 of you entered the quiz contest and nearly all of you scored 100 percent on the test. The answers, in case you are wondering, are as follows (these are Cori's by the way. Love how she included PAGE NUMBERS!) THESE HAVE SPOILERS, PEOPLE!

Describe Étienne's flaw

He's afraid to be alone. (pg. 338)

2. What is the name of Bridget and Toph's band?

The Penny Dreadfuls  (pg. 223)

3. What is the thing Étienne wears that his mom made for him?

The Hat (pg. 112)

4.  Where do Anna and Étienne first kiss?

The Grand Bassin (In Etienne's opinion, the best park in all of Paris.  In Anna's opinion, the best park in all of the world. pg. 308)

5. What does Anna's mom send for her birthday?

Girl Scout Cookies (Thin Mints and Tagalongs, pg. 268)

6. What is the first movie Anna goes to see in Paris?

It Happened One Night  (ch. 11)

7. Who is Anna's car named after?

Sofia Coppola (her favorite director,  pg. 219)

8. What sport does Meredith play?

Football (Soccer in America, pg. 12)

9. What does the acronym SOAP, Anna's school in Paris, stand for?

School of America in Paris (pg. 27)

Bonus Question: What real-life romance novelist does Anna's father resemble?

Nicholas Sparks

Etienne's flaw, by the way, was a softball. You could've also said he is short, afraid of heights, has crooked teeth, has Daddy issues, won't dump his girlfriend even though he's in love with Anna, or as one reader noted, waited until he was 18 until he tried a Tagalong. Tee hee.

Anyhow, I'll be digging through my comments to email Samantha and Chelsea and Cori for mailing addresses but in the mean time, if you guys read this, please email me at info at gayleforman dot com and we'll get started getting your info and get those prizes a'coming.

Meanwhile, there are MORE contests coming. In March, to celebrate the paperback release of another of my favorite books, Jandy Nelson's THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE, with this HOT NEW COVER, we'll be running another interview, plus book giveaway and some awesome TBD bonus giveaway if you can answer some quiz questions.

Oh, and I also got word that Stephanie Perkins, the lady herself, is gearing up to run a giveaway over at her virtual pad. It has to do with the upcoming release of some book that you might've heard about. This one:

I will keep you posted when that giveaway begins.

And I'm also planning on interviews and giveaways with Melissa Walker and Libba Bray, who both have new books coming out this spring.

So, that's all coming up in the spring.

Spring. If I can just keep focussed on spring books, spring releases, spring giveaways then maybe I can survive this insane winter.

Maybe.

bits of silly

I have a new child. She arrived over the weekend after I sent Willa to her room for a time out. When I went to get her out of time out, I discovered that Willa was gone and in her place was Kyra. Kyra looks, sounds, dresses exactly like Willa. But they are not the same. Kyra is from an orphanage in California.  She is also way better behaved. Kyra stayed all weekend. (Willa, apparently, had taken off swimming across the ocean.) There was no breaking of character. Uta Hagen would've been impressed.  If you called the resident six-year-old Willa or discussed her as Willa, she'd respond, even from the other room, "I'm not Willa!" She also made me show her where everything was—water glasses, toothbrushes, clothes—because of course, it was all unfamiliar. And she regaled me with how things were done out there at the orphanage in California. Twenty girls, they all have their own rooms. Lord knows why she wants to live here.

You could read the tolerance in Willa's friends faces over the weekend. One little girl from upstairs looked totally freaked out and when she and Kyra went to dance class together, stayed far away from the Changeling. Others, good-naturedly talked to "Kyra" with a wink and a smile. But little sister Denbele, who spent the last few days home sick—"I barfed!" she told anyone who would listen—and who I thought would be fully muddled by this concept as her language is still kind of iffy (the difference between boys and girls baffles her and though I like to think it's because she's so much more enlightened about gender than the rest of us, I suspect that's not the case) seemed to totally get it. "She's Keewah," she kept telling me any time I slipped and called Kyra Willa. And it was hard to keep track. Willa came back Sunday night. Yesterday Kyra was back. It's hard to know who will wake up in the bed this morning.  I've told Kyra we'd happily adopt her if she doesn't mind sharing the top bunk,  but that we need Willa to come back, too.

I'm not sure what this all means. Is my child a budding writer? Actress? Schizophrenic? Or is she just very influenced by books? We have been reading The Magic Half by Annie Barrows in which two twins, one living in present day, one living with a mean family in the 1930s, find each other by magic and find a way to be reunited. I won't spoil the ending but the metaphysics of it have been causing Willa major Woah moments, like in Animal House when the stoned guy starts contemplating the whole what-if-there's-a-world-in-my-thumb?

Sigh, if only I could capture the younger voice, I'd have such a wealth of books to write inspired by my kids.

In other news, Oscar nominations came out recently. I'm not sure how I feel about ten movies for Best Picture. I mean, Inception was an interesting mind-bending movie but Best Picture? And Winter's Bone. I do appreciate a small indie creeping in but this movie was kind of trite, replete with every stereotype of poor southern mountain folk you can imagine, and lots of bad teeth. Also, I'm not sure when it happened, but I've become a Natalie Portman Hater. And if she beats Annette Benning because she's a smug pregnant lady who sprouted wings, I will have to vomit.

Annette Benning is such a good subtle actress, the best actress out there if you ask me. And she took off all those years to raise her kids. And she's not campaigning to win and if she doesn't win because of that, I will be upset and will have to conclude that Hollywood is stoopid. Oh, wait.

But on the not upside side of things, can we take a moment to savor the hotness of the best actor/supporting actor categories. Jack Nicholson is nowhere in sight. (Neither is Ryan Gosling but let's not be greedy.)

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(Hmm, now that I look at all these pictures, I'm seeing how white it all is. Did any actors of color get nominated this year? Hmm, no. Apparently they all have to get lumped in at once. Did I mention the stoopid? Also Tangled didn't get nominated for best animated feature. What is going on?)

Lastly, did anyone watch the State of the Union address last night? I fell asleep about halfway through. I saw enough to say that Obama needs to take some tips on comic timing from Jon Stewart. I know it's a tough room but his jokes made me cringe. They sounded more like a student-council president than you know, a President. But maybe that was appropriate. Did you see or hear about how all the Democrats and Republicans sat together instead of the Dems on the left and Repubs on the right?  It was all a big show of unity in the aftermath of the Tucson shooting. But here's the hilarious part. The grownups in Congress were so scared about who they were gonna sit with and not wanting to be caught out with no one cool to sit next to, they went and made dates for opposition party, State of the Union seatmates. So John McCain and John Kerry sat together. It was so cute. Do you think they held hands? Had a goodnight kiss at the front door?  Eric Cantor, the smarmy House Majority Leader asked out former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi (Did he call? Send a little note: Will you sit with me? Check yes, no, or I will if you don't repeal healthcare). But Nancy already had a date. She tweeted to Eric: I thank @GOPLeader for his #SOTU offer, but I invited my friend Rep. Bartlett from MD yesterday & am pleased he accepted.

These are the people running are country!

And in case you were wondering, it's true. High school never ends.

stephanie perkins day!

We interrupt the regularly scheduled program to bring you

The Stephanie Channel

If you follow this blog or me on Twitter or Facebook, you might know that I was a wee bit OBSESSED with a new book called ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS by Stephanie Perkins. It came out about six weeks ago, and from what I can tell, scores of you have become obsessed, too. It really is the Perfect Romance. Main characters with chemistry that leaps off the page. A pacing that just makes you abandon everything else you have to do to finish that book. A great supporting cast of characters. But what really nailed it for me was that, unlike so many novels where the lovers are in love by page 12, Anna and Étienne's desire is so rooted in friendship and that friendship slowly builds until it erupts into a hot lava of love. Except without fleeing villagers and mass destruction.

Anyhow, I could go on and on—in fact, I have done.

I loved the book so much, I wound up fangirling  Stephanie and we wound up becoming email buddies and then friends—she may be the nicest person in YA, which is saying something because YA is strewn with nice people; if you read her blog you certainly can get a sense of her non fakey-fake and non barfy-barf sweetness. Point of it all is, I have now managed to rope her into doing this here interview (my first time interviewing someone else on my blog—good God, am I such a navel-gazer?). And if that's not exciting enough, there's a giveaway. Not just one. But two.

Oh, and one of the giveways, it involves chocolate.  The non fakey-fake, non barfy barfy kind. The Fancy Fine French Jacques Torres Kind (Okay, Jaques Torres chocolate is, admittedly, made in NYC, but it's artisanal and made by a Frenchman so same diff).

In order to win the chocolates, it will have helped to have READ THE BOOK because you'll have to know stuff and answer some questions. (I know, I know but do I EVER make it easy?) But because that's not fair to the rest of  you and because part of the reason to host Stephanie is to get you to read this AMAZING book, I'm doing a second giveaway, a signed copy of ANNA, and to win that you have to do nothing except write a comment in the comment box. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, as my brother would say.

Anyhow, I'll get to the rules in a bit. But first, THE STEPHANIE PERKINS INTERVIEW. Or, EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT ÉTIENNE…WARNING: My questions, Steph's answers and the quiz questions contain mild spoilers.

What kind of "preparation/research" do you do for kissing scenes?

I make out with my husband for eleventy-billion hours straight.  Or maybe I just watch a lot of BBC period romances.

Do you find it odd that you curse like an Englishman quite so well? Do you walk around Asheville muttering "bollocks, oh fer fucks sake" etc. in Cockney esque accent?

Ha!  Thank you.  Yes, I actually do say those things!  (Though not with an accent.)  I have a voraciously foul mouth and to combat it when I'm in public, I often substitute English expressions.  My favorite is "bollocks" followed by "bugger" with a mighty helping of "Oh, bloody hell."

Anna and Étienne have a very grown-up type emotional bond. Do you think it's unrealistic to portray teenagers have such a mature relationship? (Ahem, feel free to answer with personal anecdote).

Definitely not.  And here's the obligatory personal anecdote: I was Anna's age when I met my husband.  We had a very natural, very easy, but very serious courtship.  I was married as a teenager.  Our ten-year anniversary is this year.  I realize that our relationship is unusual—and I definitely don't believe that most high school loves are True Loves—but, yes, absolutely it can happen.

Responsible, mature teens often have responsible, mature relationships.  And whether the relationship lasts or not, those emotions, those bonds are as powerful and real as anything forged between adults.

You mention crepes a lot in the book. And macarons. Can you describe a macaron for an American audience? Also, what do you have against crème brulée!? Why did you not mention it at all in ANNA? Is there something WRONG with you? It might just be the one flaw in the book.

My favorite local eatery is a French restaurant called Bouchon, and my favorite dish is Chef Michel's quadruple mini-crème brulées—it changes with the season, but it'll be a sampler of something like: lavender, rosemary, chocolate orange, and espresso.  So definitely no hard feelings against the glorious crème brulée!

(Perhaps it deserves a starring role in my third novel?)

[Editor's note: YES!!!!!]

But . . . macarons.  Macarons are special.  In America, we think of those bleh coconut thingies, but in France, they're these GORGEOUS sandwiches cookies made with eggshell-fragile crusts and melt-in-your-mouth fillings.  They have these beautiful, bright colors, and they're so cheerful to look at!  And the flavors: Blackcurrant!  Rose!  Passion fruit!  My favorite is fleur d'oranger, orange flower.  It tastes like the sun.

What do you have against daylight?

Daylight blows.  Suck it, daylight!

[Editor's night. Stephanie writes on a vampire's schedule. Up all night. Asleep all day. It's all very cool and romantic. Unless you want to communicate in real time.]

What was your favorite scene to write in ANNA?

Anna and Étienne's first kiss.  I try to live each scene as I write it, so their make out in the grass was revised many, many, many times.  Many times.

Which scene kicked your ass?

The scene in which I had to describe the cancer treatments that Étienne's mother would receive.  The research was so sad, so terrible.  The simple reason that macarons showed up in my novel was because I couldn't write about cancer without giving myself a distraction.  Thus, the conversation about his mother is set in a pâtisserie.

San Francisco vs. Paris: The victor?

Oh, man!  Such an evil question.  I love them both and for very different reasons.  I suppose, under a gun, I'd pick San Francisco.  My husband courted me there, so it'll always be romantic to me.

How tall is Étienne exactly? Why did you choose to make him short?

Now it's my turn to be evil.  You'll learn his height in A FUTURE BOOK!!!  (Unless the sentence gets cut, which it might, and in that case, I'll come back and tell you.)  I made him short, because . . . I just knew that he was.  It was never a question.

And I love the idea of a hero who isn't embarrassed or held back by his short stature.  Someone who still has an incredible amount of confidence and charisma, someone who is loved by people who don't judge him for it either.  Height is a silly thing to get judgmental about.  It's not like anyone can help it.

Are you already getting annoyed/protective that people want to talk about Étienne more than Anna, apparently this interviewer included?

Oh, goodness, no.  I'd rather talk about him, too.

Set the record straight so you can shock your readers: Did you or did you not…go to an American boarding school in Paris?

No.

Live in Paris for much of your life?

No.

Study abroad as an exchange student?

No.

Live in England?

God, I wish.

Live with an Englishperson?

See above.

If not, explain then, how you managed to WRITE THAT BOOK.

One word: research.

More words: The English part was easy, because I'm a longtime Anglophile.  A lot can be absorbed by regular viewings of British programming.

The French part was challenging.  I didn't have the money to travel, so for several years, I read every book about France that I could get my hands on, listened to French music, watched French films, ate French food, took a French language class, etc.  I've since spent a month in Paris, but it was after ANNA was already in edits.  I was so relieved to discover that my extensive research had paid off.  Paris was everything I'd expected and hoped it to be.  In other words, hurrah for research!  And hurrah for Paris!

*   *   *

Thank you, Stephanie!!!

Okay, contests: First off, both contests run through Friday, January 28th.

Now, if you have not read ANNA and want to—and how could you not?—you can of course, buy the book. Or you can try to win a signed copy. To do that simply comment on this post and you'll be entered to win. Got it? To win a signed copy of ANNA all you have to do is leave a comment on this post and you're done. Okay, thanks for playing, bye. Now stop reading because there are big spoilers coming. Seriously, go write your name in the comment box and do something good for the world. Stop Reading Now.

I mean it. STOP READING. It's for your own good.

REALLY. Curiosity killed the cat. And ruined the reading experience. Now, BYE!

Okay, I thought they'd never leave. It's just us now, ANNA lovers and chocophiles. Your task is a little more complicated. And way more fun! Herewith is a quiz to test your arcane ANNA knowledge.  Complete it. Then email the answers to me (because posting your answers would be like waving your Scantron around for all the world to see). If you get the answers right (or most of them) you'll be entered into a random drawing for the chocolate. If you win, you can even tell me your preference for dark or milk chocolate (or have a mix). Email your anwers to info at gayle forman dot com.

The quiz is open book, btw.

Okay, ready for the ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS QUIZ? Pencils up. Good luck. Or, as they might say at SOAP, Bon Chance.

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1. Describe Étienne's flaw

2. What is the name of Bridget and Toph's band?

3. What is the thing Étienne wears that his mom made for him?

4.  Where do Anna and Étienne first kiss?

5. What does Anna's mom send for her birthday?

6. What is the first movie Anna goes to see in Paris?

7. Who is Anna's car named after?

8. What sport does Meredith play?

9. What does the acronym SOAP, Anna's school in Paris, stand for?

Bonus Question: What real-life romance novelist does Anna's father resemble?

Don't forget. Email the answers to info at gayleforman dot com. Don't post them in the comments.

As they say in Paris, Au Revoir!

Gabby, Obama, L.K. and MLK

It's been more than a week since the shootings in Tucson that killed six people, and miraculously didn't kill Gabrielle Giffords.

It's been been five days since author L.K. Madigan announced some hard news on her blog: She has stage IV pancreatic cancer that has metastasized to her liver. In her post, L.K. doesn't mince words. In her typically brave, and funny, and true words, she seemed like she was saying her goodbye.

It has been five days since Obama spoke in Tucson, giving a speech, not just about the victims of the shooting, not just about civility or lack thereof in our culture, but about the overarching need for greater empathy, a greater sense of humility and humanity to guide us in all matters.

It has been 82 years since the Reverend Martin Luther King was born, almost 42 years since he was shot. Today we celebrate him.

Somehow, these disparate events have been knocking around in my brain for the past few days. I wish I could say that the shootings are occupying the most brain space, but maybe it's because we've lived through them so many times before that I've become hardened to such things. They are so uniquely American. They happen. We don't even discuss, much less do anything about the holes in our mental health system or gun control. And I get that for many people the Second Amendment is as sacrosanct as the First Amendment is to me so by "discussing" I'm not talking banning, but when people sigh at school shootings or rampages and simply go "not again!" it's like, really people, something is off.

But, I digress. Because really, the thing that I've been thinking about is Obama's speech. And Lisa's news.

Two admissions or clarifications. One, I have been kind of mad at Obama. Not in the angry left kind of way. Just in the I-thought-you'd-be-a-better-politician kind of way. Where's the inspiration to go with the policy? As with all matters, I look to Jon Stewart to explain how I feel. "He ran as a visionary; he leads as a functionary." Maybe this is a necessity of the time but I feel, felt, let down. That speech lifted me up a good deal. More on that in a moment.

Second, I don't know Lisa very well at all—L.K. is her nom de plume, I think devised so boys buy her books (boys, are you so skittish?). I admire her work. She came to one of my readings. We have exchanged emails and blog comments. I don't pretend to know much about her. But her news saddened me very much.

In the aftermath of the shooting, Obama said: "Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together."

Expand our moral imaginations. Sharpen our instincts for empathy. Those lines resonated deeply. Maybe because that is what so many of us writers try to do. Not to get all highfalutin on you, but that is certainly what Lisa Madigan did in Flash/Burnout, her debut, award-winning novel that bursts at the spine with empathy for hercharacters, flaws and all. What is a writer like that doing if not expanding her, and her readers', moral imaginations? Sharpening their instincts for empathy? And it's not lost on me that I'm writing this on a day when we honor MLK, whose legacy for expanding our moral imagination and instincts for empathy lives on.

Of all the lines in the speech, this one blew my mind, simply because in this era of gimme, gimme, achievement, earn-earn, it was almost subversive to hear a president say it. "We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved…"

Not how well we are loved, but how well we have loved. How much love we have put out there. How much love we have given. It has been one of the lessons of my life—one I don't always put into practice but I try— to realize that love is not always reciprocal but it is always reciprocated. You put it out there; you get it back, but not always from the person you gave it to.

There are many different cups into which to pour your love. Your friends, your family, your readers, the world via you characters, the random people you meet each day to whom you are kind. So many cups. So, fill 'em up. As much as you can. And drink it in. All of it.

my turn

I have been blown away, swept up, filled up, humbled, shocked and awed by the response here over at the blog. When I posted the giveaway for the ARC of WHERE SHE WENT and IF I STAY and asked you all to tell me something you were grateful for or hopeful for, I wasn't expecting much. A line or two. I'm grateful for Jersey Shore. I'm grateful for books so I don't have to watch Jersey Shore. I'm hopeful that Snooki won't land in prison. I'm hopeful that in the future, I won't have to hear about Snooki.

Instead what I got was an outpouring of honesty. People grappling with depression and grateful the clouds had lifted. People grateful they had family. People missing family. People grateful family members had died after long illnesses or old age. People grateful family members (or they themselves) had come back from illness (and a special high five to you guys who are kicking cancer's ass. I love it when cancer eats dirt!)

I don't know what to say. You rock my world. You complete me. You left me speechless. Which doesn't happen a lot.

I also felt like I should return the kindness. Which is a little easier said than done or I would've done it already.

Gratitude is a funny thing. When you're brimming with it, counting your blessings feels like luxuriating in a bubble bath. But when you're feeling a wee bit burnt out by the various rigors of parenting two headstrong little girls, a daily juggling act of getting them off to school, getting the errands done, the dinner cooked, the bills paid, the homework done, the lunches packed, and, oh, yeah, somewhere in there finding the time and mental energy to work on your next book, which by the way, is crazy-hard because you've set this ginormous challenge for yourself— and publicize your current books—and yes, working moms everywhere, I hear you sing my song of woe—it's hard to get all gushy with the gratitude.

The thing is, these are exactly the times you need to focus on the grateful thing the most. When you are (okay, who is this you? It's ME I'm talking about here) slipping on black ice on the way home from dropping the 3-year-old off at school (yes, I'm fine. I'm fine but will someone please remove those ice bunkers on my block now!)

So you've all inspired me to think about some things I'm grateful for, not the trite things, like I'm grateful for my children (because yesterday, when I had a migraine, and I had to take both girls to the dentist, and on the way home I asked if maybe we could be quiet in the car so I could just try to stop the evil fairies from chiseling away at my brain, my six-year-old screamed at me to stop talking about my head in that shrill voice that is just so headache-soothing, and trust me, gratitude for my children was not the feeling coursing through me). Instead, I'll focus on the small things that are making me grateful right now. And some random things I hope for in the coming year.

What I'm grateful for now:

1. Jon Stewart. If you have not watched The Daily Show episode in which he shamed the Senate into passing the bill to give aid to 9/11 First Responders, you should watch it. He is our moral compass. Even the New York Times said so. But how can a compass be funny? My god, he's like IcyHot. Two incompatible things at once! And so right. Talk about Nuance (see below). I love him. I really do. I would wear this. Though not in the white.

2. Speaking of Jon Stewart, who I never actually see on TV (do I seem like I stay up that late? hahahah), I am also very thankful for all-around excellent TV shows, most of which I watch on Netflix. Just finished In Treatment Season 2. How I wish Paul could be my shrink!! As is, he provides quality downtime for me and the equally burnt-out husband. Which is kind of like couples therapy!

The empathy…it tingles!

3. Acupuncture: Never thought I'd list something that pokes me with needles as something to be grateful for but acupuncture seems to make me feel better and my practitioner is the cutest little nice hipster chick ever.

4. My friends. With whom I can be my sarcastic, insecure, un-censored self. Terribly grateful to have added a few new ones to the stable last year.

5. New York City. New York Magazine runs this yearly Reasons To Love New York Now feature. It's a little self congratulatory  and a little bit self-helpy (like we really do need the reminding because sometimes living here just sucks SO BAD—did I mention the black ice?) But every time I go away, I start to feel like an addict without a fix. And when I come back, even recently coming back from the Caribbean to post-blizzard chaos, I just felt this sigh of relief (until I had to shovel out the back patio). But I love this place. With all the crazy that goes on everywhere else in the world, this is like an island of sane. No, really.

6. Nuance. It's good to know that things aren't black and white. Like you can simultaneously be grateful for your family and completely crazy made by them. You can be utterly grateful for your career, while at the same time bewildered that it happened to you and slightly fearful that it'll stop happening to you Any Second Now. Things that seem contradictory are often not. It's all just nuance, the gray area, the space between. I don't like characters in books that are all one thing or the other. It's good to remember that in life, stuff isn't usually that way, either. Learn to love the nuance.

Get it? Shades of gray.

7. Time. For an impatient person, this is a tough thing to savor. But time basically solves most things. Most issues kids have are simply phases they will outgrow. In time. Except for serious health problems, most minor scale stuff (like the reflux Cough That Will Not Quit) will eventually subside or abate. I'm hardly seeing my husband these days but our kids won't always be three and six and in need of our constant attention. And with books, it might not be where I want it to be now, but with time—oh, and a crapload of hard work, revisions, sleepless nights and did I say revisions?—the sloppy mess of a nightmare I'm working on now, it'll get there.

8. You. In case that wasn't made clear. I have a love-hate relationship with the Interwebs (see nuance) but when people pour out some semblance of intimacy and honesty, I am beyond moved. I put a lot of that into my books—and blogs—so it's nice to get it back. Oh, and thanks for reading my books, too. Y'all keep me employed. You're like my bosses. (Oh, lordy, I just said y'all. Blame my niece from South Carolina!!!) You also make me happy.

Okay, from one esoteric list to the other. Things I'm hopeful for.

1. To be better at achieving this:

Seriously, I know it's such a cliche, balance. But I sure, sure, sure would like to figure out how to have more of it. Though sometimes I suspect what I need is not balance so much as another day of the week that nobody knows about but me and nobody exists in but me in which I can get all the stuff done I can't get done. That or a butler. How do other people do it? I don't think kicking the trash can is the best strategy because now it's broken and I have to go get a new one, which is another chore.

2. To spend more time with my friends. That would fall under balance, too. Also, it would also be really great if suddenly the East Village and Park Slope became adjacent neighborhoods. City planners, can you get on that?

3. Economic recovery in the country. Seriously though, can everyone just have jobs again, okay? And then can we get real about stuff like global climate change because I'm okay with some snow but two feet in December is weird and did I mention the giant frozen snow logs outside and also thinking about the world I'm leaving my kids keeps me up at night but when people are scared and jobless they don't want to deal with stuff like that. So let's get rolling with this recovery thing. Okaythanks!

4. Less insurance forms in 2011! Given than I spent the morning filling out claims, this would make me so happy. I suppose this is a roundabout way of asking for good health in 2011. Or a single-payer system!

5. For WHERE SHE WENT to be a wild success. Well, I'm allowed to be shallow. It's coming out in three months and I totally hope for that and panic that you will all hate it. Hopefully I get points for putting solving global warming before my own petty concerns.

6. Movies. Every time I go to a movie, I have all these high expectations and then the movie winds up being so-so (notable exception was Tangled, which I expected to be so-so and was fantastic. Great animation, good songs and a well-structured narrative. It's my habit in movies to see the flaws in the storyline and say "Julie Strauss-Gabel would never have let this happen." (Julie is my editor and also a sort of bionic editor in her brilliance). I did not say that once in Tangled but I say it more and more in other films, even well-reviewed ones (Love and Other Drugs? People liked this? Really?) As I get ready to see and be underwhelmed by Oscar-bait films, I hope, again, for more interesting, creative less, self-indulgent fare. For movies to be as good as some of the TV shows I love are.

7. Time. Just as I'm grateful for time I'm also hopeful for more of it. You never know what the future holds. So you can only take advantage of what you've got now. Which is something to be both grateful and hopeful for all at once.

giveaway time

New year, new book. (Which is funny. Last year's holiday card read "New Year, New Kid!)

In honor of it being 2011 and the year of WHERE SHE WENT's release, I'm giving away a signed ARC of WHERE SHE WENT along with a signed copy of IF I STAY (paperback, so you can see how pretty they look together).

See:

All you have to do is comment on this post with something you are grateful for or hopeful for in this new year—and seriously people, if you are grateful for Glee, then let your Gleek flag fly. I will not hold that against you. My gratitude for TV shows, including the fact that I can soon watch Friday Night Lights—yay—though it's the final season—wah—knows no bounds.

Contest will run till the end of the week. I will randomly pick a winner. Open to people living ANYWHERE.