Lori Ann Stephens's Blog, page 6

Paris and Glimmer Train

I'm in Paris for a month and starting to feel like I know the neighborhood here.


Instead of posting pictures and funny stories here, I'm proofreading my 9-year-old son's blog, which he keeps every time we visit family here. It takes him about 2 hours to type it, holding my laptop hostage. But I am catching up on novels that have been on my to-read list.

I realized today that my interview with author Matt Bondurant is in the current issue of Glimmer Train Stories, an amazing and beautiful magazine that is publishing the finest literary fiction today.

I can't wait to get home and tear open the box of copies that I know are waiting for me. If you don't know Glimmer Train and you're a fiction writer, you should subscribe. It's worth the small investment.

á bientôt!

April: Poetry Month Celebration

Last week, I was invited to speak at Collin College's Preston Ridge campus. We were celebrating National Poetry Month, which was established in 1996. I shared some of my libretto and talked about the difficulties of working with rhymes (Do I sound like Dr. Seuss here? And there? And everywhere?)

I expected, at the most, 20 people. When I arrived fifteen minutes early, there were already more than 20 people, and scores of students were streaming in. The fragrant scent of extra credit was in the air. What a beautiful aroma. All told, by the time the Dr. Gingo had two more tables installed in the room, there were about 150 people in the audience (in chairs and sitting on the floor). After JP Reese and I read, several students asked us questions. Then we all moved toward the great spread of food and schmoozed. What a great evening with inspiring students.

Blurry Pictures taken from the audience:

Today!

This morning, I spoke at the Richland College Literary Festival about why I write and why I think people in general should write, too.

Wow! It was scary and fun. The college students didn't fall sleep (score!), and they seemed interested in my little journey through the whys of writing. Thank you, Richland College, for inviting me. Thanks, especially to Sobia and Patrick for your warm welcome.

And now, in 7 minutes exactly, I've eeked into an online writer's workshop, thanks to Agent Jill. I have my wine glass (and the rest of the bottle within arm's reach) and I'm ready to listen to the pulse of the market.

Cheers!  (I'll write my response to the workshop here soon.  Stay posted!)

Thief of my Heart

Last year, I read a novel that stole my heart quicker than you can say mud.

Aptly so, because it's called The Book Thief. If you haven't read it, this is what it looks like:

And now, go buy it. (Or check it out at the library.)
I write coming-of-age stories, so the young age of the main character attracted me. There are many, many novels out there billed as coming-of-age stories, but not very many great ones. This is a great one.

Here's Markus Zusak, the author of The Book Thief:

(Also young, no?)

With that brief preface, let me share a short story of humanity and kindness with you today.
After reading The Book Thief in one whirlwind weekend (it's 550 pages, folks), I walked around in a stupor, wiping my tears and marveling at the power of the story. I decided to follow my nine-year-old son's great example and wrote a letter of thanks to Zusak.

I whipped off an email to him via Facebook, remembering how miraculous I feel when someone says something nice about my own book. (And also thinking, geez, I'll bet he gets so many thank you letters, he just gets exasperated by them.)

He wrote me back, and told me that he also cried when he wrote the scene that I cried over. I was stunned to get his response. What a kind gesture to personally answer a "fan mail." I noticed afterwards that he attempted to respond to EVERY SINGLE fan post on his page. What the what? This man deserves a medal with the word HUMANITY embossed on it...and an extra hour every day to write fiction.

A few days later, I decided to assign The Book Thief to my college students in the spring.

A few days after that, I found out that Markus Zusak was invited to be the keynote speaker at the Highland Park Literary Festival, the festival at which I teach a fiction workshop every year.

I love it when the world kind of comes together like that.

So, in a few weeks, Markus Zusak will arrive in Dallas, and he'll make his appearance at the opening night of the festival. Then the other workshop presenters and I will have dinner with the creator of Death himself (Zusak), at which I'll act very shy and nervous and clutch my worn out novel and ask him to sign my book (and apologize for all the marginal notes) after the dessert course. I know this will happen, because I behaved the same way at the dinners with Scott Simon and Russell Banks in previous years.

Last week, I met the author of The Age of Miracles, Karen Thompson Walker. At SMU, she read from her debut novel, a NYT Bestseller, and she was sweet and gracious and talented.

Sometimes, writing (and trying to live as a writer) is so hard, it seems inhumane. Writers like Zusak and Walker make the world of writing a little kinder. A little gentler. Warmer.

It's good to love what one does. I'm a lucky girl.

A missed opportunity

Just a short post here.
Kemble's drawing of Huckleberry Finn, from the original 1884 edition of the book.My nine-year-old read the Illustrated Classics version of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for a school book report. He enjoyed it so much that I decided to read aloud to him Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. (I use the word "slave" instead of that infamous other word, which I just can't bring myself to say.) We read one chapter every evening before bed.

It's a nice time for the two of us, and I get to share some history with my son. I sometimes pause to explain Jim's dangerous situation, the Mississippi River, or the steamboats. Halfway through our chapter last night, I stopped yet again to explain the bend in the river, Cairo, and the concept of free and the slave states.

"So, did Mark Twain write this book when there were slaves?" he asked me.
"No. The setting is around the 1830s or 40s, before the Civil War," I said. "And Twain wrote the book many decades after the Civil War."
"Oh," he said. I started reading, and he stopped me again.
"Wait! You mean Mark Twain's not alive?"
"No, sweetheart."
He buried his face into my shoulder and cried, "Oh, no! Oh, no! I wanted to write him a thank you letter and tell him I love his books."
My heart melted a little.
We had to take a minute break so he could compose himself, and then I kept reading.

I think Mark Twain would have been pleased to know that his book, well into the 21st century, is still touching the hearts of kids. Well done, Mr. Twain.

New Year, Hello! (And the Next Big Thing)

All I've been reading lately are New Year's Resolutions. I feel a little guilty that I haven't publicly made any. I'll go for inclusiveness and say that I will make an effort to be a better human. Seems like a tall order for a New Year's Resolution, but I figure if I ask myself, "Will your response/action/thought contribute some goodness to other humans?" and proceed from there, it could be a worthwhile resolution.

I've been knee deep in another libretto, folks! This talented young composer was commissioned an opera in London, and he asked me to write the libretto, which I have recently delivered. I've been having a swell time--just bowled over by the joy that comes with writing lyrics. That doesn't mean it was without its challenges.  Writing rhyming lyrics is hard, folks.  Half the time, I was worrying about whether my lines were devolving into Mother Goose. But I'm enthusiastic about this opera, based on the tragic and fascinating life of Evariste Galois. I can't wait to hear the music. I might go mad with excitement when the production date draws nigh.

I've been kindly blog-tagged by a dear friend and writer, Gregory Allen, so I'd better jump on this now before another month flies by. Here's the gist of "The Next Big Thing," copied from Greg's site:


"Blog hops are a great way for people to find new authors. Perhaps read a genre they haven't thought of before. The Next Big Thing is an around-the-world blog hop where authors of all genres tell readers about their next/recent book release in the course of answering 10 questions.  Each author has been tagged by another author to write a blog, and the current author then tags new authors who blog the following week."

I've mentioned Greg's children's book, Chicken Boy, on my website before. He's written books for adults, too, all of which can be found here for your purchasing pleasure. Greg is simply an amazing person, and it's been an honor to know him. (Forgive my sentimental gushiness.)
I'll try to answer these questions to my work in progress, which is actually in revisions now. 
Begin fancy font.

1) What is the working title of your next book? I have a few completed manuscripts, but for today, I’ll talk about Invisible, a novel for Young Adults about a girl who turns…you guessed it.
2) Where did the idea come from for the book? Down here in North Texas, there’s been a fracas about the fracking of the Barnett Shale. (Did you see what I did there?) It’s caused some minor earthquakes, and there are rumors that natural gas is seeping up into houses and other scary places. I imagine, “What the frack?” is going to take over the “wtf” phrase soon. I wondered what other scary gases could be inadvertently unleashed, and what would happen if a previously unknown gas were jostled loose in an unprecedented earthquake in North Texas. And voila, my characters become invisible—and not the convenient kind of invisible. No floating through walls and doors in this story.
3) What genre does your book fall under? This is Young Adult science fiction with a twist of government conspiracy and a dash of first love.
4) What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition? I’m finding it difficult to imagine how this kind of plot could be adapted into a film. That would be one heck of a 3D film challenge, wouldn’t it? James Franco could appear in any adaptation of a book (it doesn’t even have to be mine), and I’d go see it.
5) What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? 
After an earthquake destroys Jordan’s hometown, she and her family wake up invisible, and must hide from the military pursuing them.
6) Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? This book is represented by my agent. Check her out.
7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript? I wrote this book over one summer. But I’m still tweaking. Tweaking, tweaking.
8) What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? Life as We Knew It for older teens.9) Who or what inspired you to write this book?I wanted to write something fantastical, but also include a love story that would be different from anything I’d ever read, but would have loved to read when I was a teenager. This is it.
10) What else about the book might pique the reader's interest?It’s about earthquakes! Invisible people! Family going all to pieces! First love! Kissing! (While invisible!) Annoying siblings! Almost dying! What more could one want?
Here are a few other authors I think you should check out. All of them are wonderful. Follow them!
Jessica Love, Young Adult writer and really entertaining bloggerAmy K. Nichols, another great writer/blogger I love to readSean Ferrell, weird and wonderful

On Minioperas, mentoring, and rubbing shoulders (okay, emails) with famous artists

It's been a while since my last blog post.

Here's why: 
1. I was too nervous to post because of the Minioperas event. We (writers, composers, and filmmakers) were waiting and waiting for the results.
2. I was revising a novel manuscript that was actually based on an opera, and I was scared to hell that my amazing agent would say "Meh," and ask me to start over on a different topic altogether.
3. It's fall semester, and I'm mentoring several kick-ass graduate instructors who are lovely people, but the paperwork and preparation take a lot of time.
4. My younger son broke his arm in a spectacular way (and by spectacular, I mean haunting) that required surgery and a week of attentive love and care and pillow-positioning and no sleep.

But here's the good news, my friends! 

1. Two days ago, the results of the Minioperas contest were announced. Before that, I'd been having lunch with a friend from grad school (Maryam Baig--daughter of this amazing man) whom I hadn't seen in years and who is the best Puck I have ever seen on stage (and ever will, I suspect). While walking back to my car, I started getting tweets and emails congratulating me on winning the Minioperas contest. I won the mentorship, folks, and I've been walking around in a kind of shock and awe ever since. To briefly recap:
I wrote a miniopera script based on Neil Gaiman's character, The Sweeper of Dreams. Please click on the link to hear him read this mesmerizing character prompt. There were over 500 entries. Neil Gaiman chose the top 4 scripts based on his prompt (the other two artists chose the top 3 each, for a total of 10 finalists). I was a lucky finalist with "The Lingerer."Composers then composed minioperas for their favorite finalist. Three Lingerer composers made the finalist round, too! (I literally memorized Max Perryment's composition, I listened to it so much. My partner teased me about my narcissism, but it couldn't be helped!) You can listen to all of the incredibly talented composers here.I exchanged a few brief emails with Neil Gaiman, shocked (again) that my inbox says "From: Neil" and grateful that such a talented and busy artist takes the time to write an email when his time could be better spent making f*ing good art. The ENO event at BMI in London was cancelled for the finalists, so I cancelled my flight and non-refundable hotel. I was a little sad because I really wanted to shake hands with Gaiman and Terry Gilliam, but on the bright side, I could stay home with my son, who had just had surgery.  Then we waited and waited to hear the announcement of the winners of a year's mentorship with a professional artist in our respective fields. Jeremy Sams is the mentor for the script writer. My God. Look at his work!This morning, Mr. Sams emailed me, and this 9-month adventure with learning a new craft begins. Thank you, English National Opera. Thank you, Neil Gaiman. Thank you, Jeremy Sams. I feel very lucky.

As for the rest of my list?
2. My agent loved my manuscript. (Big sigh of relief and a pinch of giddiness.)
3. I just finished the syllabus template for the spring semester for all my grad students. It rocks.
4. My son is back to school with a purple cast and lots of loving attention from 4th grade pals and teachers. And Maman et Papa slept through the entire night for the first time since the surgery. Life is good.

To my friends on the East Coast: I'm thinking of you and hoping life gets easier this week, particularly in the form of electricity. Email me if you need (or just want) anything.

The First Book that Made You Cry

Several nights ago, I was sitting in my bed rereading Plato, mentally preparing for my graduate class when Julien padded into the room and crawled silently into my bed. He pulled the covers over his head and curled away from me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He didn't answer, so I pulled on the covers and saw his red face and puffy eyes. He was sniffling, and an embarrassed smile spread across his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked again.

"I finished the book."

"And it made you cry?"

He nodded, then burst into tears. I tugged at him until he was curled under my arm. I was immediately moved, stirred by old memories of really good books that made me cry when I was a child. I laughed a little and tried to cheer him up. I picked my phone off the bedside stand and did this impromptu interview:


Of course, I didn't make him read it. Instead, I set down Plato's Gorgias and started reading the last 40 pages of Louis Sachar's There's a Boy in the Girl's Bathroom. One touching scene between a counselor and her socially-challenged student did bring a tear to my eye, but the end was rather hopeful and, at times, really funny. Julien watched and waited for me to cry.

"Isn't it sad?" he asked when I finished.

"Yes. And full of hope."

He hugged me and started crying again. He cried for an hour, and I marveled at his emotional response to the book. I was proud that he'd invested his imagination in the life of this character who is so different from him. I was glad he tapped into his own fears about changes, endings, the uncertainty and unfairness of life. I was grateful that this book will, without doubt, find a permanent place in his memory of literature that profoundly moved him, like Summer of My German Soldier and Gone With the Wind and The Giving Tree did for me.

I remember curling up in bed as a child and crying, too. Loss is a universal experience. When it happens to a fictional character, we are powerless to do anything but watch. Because the characters aren't real, we're not allowed to offer sympathy through a comforting hand or glance; so we become the character and experience empathy. That's pretty powerful stuff for kids. In my opinion, empathy is the most important character trait to foster if we are to raise kind and decent children. Maybe that's why I was so proud and humbled by Julien's response.

When Julien finally settled down enough to sleep, he took my hand and said, "Thank you for buying me that book."

"Thank you, too," I answered. For two days, he couldn't watch the video of his own response to the book. It choked him up too much. But yesterday, he watched it and smiled and told me that he thought I should put it on the internet so other children would see what a great book it was. They would want to read it and see if it makes them "hysterical," too. Now, he's planning a thank you letter for Louis Sachar.

Do you remember the first book that made you cry, it was so good? What was it?

Get your cameras ready...Finalists!

I woke up at 7 am and, on a mission, trudged bleary-eyed to my laptop.
"Can I make you some coffee?" my dear one said as I passed his office. Yes, I said, ever grateful for his daily miracle of Perfect Coffee Production.

Laptop on, I went directly to minioperas.org to see the results of the second phase of the contest: the composition.

The screen came up, and I screamed just a little bit: three (THREE!) of my favorite minioperas made it to the final round of competition. THREE LINGERERS!

(And now, for a moment of silence for my other favorites that found their way into my dreams and my daydreams for weeks but didn't make the finals: your magic is not done. I hope to hear you elsewhere. There were a few particular composers whose work I will follow closely from now on. Thank you for honoring me with your compositions of The Lingerer.)

Let me step out of my own (apparently enormous) ego for a moment and just say that there were so many--SO MANY--marvelous, brilliant compositions to all 10 of the librettos. If you haven't already, you won't regret visiting the website and listening to them.

Here's one more thing I need to admit: sometimes I lose faith a little in the basic goodness of humanity, especially when tragedies such as the Colorado shooting or, yesterday, the Wisconsin Sikh tragedy occur. I lose faith amid the muck of politics and ignorance. After the media coverage of the Aurora shooting, I listened to the compositions at the minioperas website, one after another, and somehow they were like a poultice to the pain. As if they were telling me: if humans are compassionate enough to make music like this, there is hope for us all. It sounds really corny here now as I'm tying it, but there you go. This music helped me profoundly, and I'm thankful for it. Better to get hope from opera than from a prescription bottle.

Congratuations, finalists! You deserve heaps of applause. (And a special hurrah to Max Perryment, Alex Weston, and Julian Chou-Lambert.)

Everyone else, get your video cameras charged and ready: the film competition begins NOW! You have 49 days to git 'er done.

Sinister Sweetness

I guess this weekend is all about my 9-year-old son.
Hold on to your hearts, because the Cuteness Meter is about to hit Maximum.
maximum cuteness

My last post was about our delightful purchase of poetry, and Julien was pleased to perform for the blogosphere. Today, I want to give you a sneak peek at a Middle Grade book that Julien won from a blog give-away recently: The Sinister Sweetness of Splendid Academy, by Nikki Loftin.

Here's the book description:Lorelei is bowled over by Splendid Academy--Principal Trapp encourages the students to run in the hallways, the classrooms are stocked with candy dishes, and the cafeteria serves lavish meals featuring all Lorelei's favorite foods. But the more time she spends at school, the more suspicious she becomes. Why are her classmates growing so chubby? And why do the teachers seem so sinister? It's up to Lorelei and her new friend Andrew to figure out what secret this supposedly splendid school is hiding. 
What they discover chills their bones--and might even pick them clean! Mix one part magic, one part mystery, and just a dash of Grimm, and you've got the recipe for a cozy-creepy read that kids will gobble up like candy. 
I had the fortune to meet Nikki earlier this year at the SCBWI conference in Austin, the same weekend I met and signed with my YA agent. Nikki was hilarious, had me wiping tears of laughter with her antics. She was also kind and encouraging and genuine. With great reviews from PW and Kirkus, she is surely a rising star in MG literature.

Julien was ecstatic about winning an Advanced Reader Copy (because of the exclusivity, you see--there's nothing as thrilling to a 9-yr-old as getting his hands on something cool before ANYONE in the whole school can), and this book did not disappoint. What's funny (and a little sad) is that Julien had NO IDEA what was coming as he read.

"You mean, you've never heard of the Hansel and Gretel story?" I asked him in the car.
"No. What's that?" he asked.

I had a brief FAIL moment as a mother who tries to raise culturally literate children. But then I decided that he'd learn his own version of Hansel and Gretel soon enough, and that was all right, too.

You really should order this one for your kiddos, who'll not only love the story, but look irresistibly cool carrying this awesome book around school:
The bookstore cover: love it

I read the book right after Julien, and I could not put the book down. Frankly, I was creeped out, as I was when I watched Coraline, chewing on my nails. But splendidly creeped out. Splendid Academy is deliciously and delightfully written, with surprising depth of character and just enough Sinister details to keep Julien hooked. Now for the Sweetness:
More cuteness: Julien cracking up with his newest book. The book cover on the ARC was different from the final cover.


best read with a Lick-Em Stick