Sarah Beth Durst's Blog, page 56
September 7, 2010
Choosing the Right Place
Junior year of high school, my parents told me that I could only apply to five colleges. This was entirely for my own good. Left to my own devices, I would have applied to five hundred colleges. (I was a wee bit anxious about the whole thing.)
This limitation didn't stop my obsessing, of course. I needed to pick the "right" five.
My dad and I visited a total of 22 colleges during my junior and senior year of high school. We even video-taped our visits (though most of the time, we'd forget ...
This limitation didn't stop my obsessing, of course. I needed to pick the "right" five.
My dad and I visited a total of 22 colleges during my junior and senior year of high school. We even video-taped our visits (though most of the time, we'd forget ...
August 29, 2010
College Obsession
Junior and senior year of high school, I obsessed about college. I swear I did not have a single conversation over those two years that did not touch on the topic of college in some way. Of course, this was not helped by the fact that when one is that age, everyone begins every conversation by asking, "So where are you applying?" And as soon as you can answer that, they begin asking, "So where are you going to go?" And as soon as you can answer that, they ask, "So what's your major?"...
August 24, 2010
Freshman Year Sarah
It is now 50 days until the release of my next book, ENCHANTED IVY. I'm excited! And I'm thinking about college. (The novel is about getting into college. Also, talking gargoyles and were-tigers.) This is me in my dorm room freshman year of college:
Nearly everything I brought with me was a memento: the tall glass cylinder by the window contained dried roses from prom and from various recitals and shows, the gray lamp was my dad's from his college days and the stickers on it were from my e...
Nearly everything I brought with me was a memento: the tall glass cylinder by the window contained dried roses from prom and from various recitals and shows, the gray lamp was my dad's from his college days and the stickers on it were from my e...
August 15, 2010
Jedi Fireworks
Only thing I don't like about Return of the Jedi: the fireworks.
In a galaxy far, far away, why would the fireworks look like 1990s Earth fireworks? Fireworks technology changes. Also, why does everyone have fireworks displays at the ready? It was a surprise attack by the Rebels (or it was supposed to be). Have they been keeping the fireworks prepared for the last few decades? Seems a bit optimistic of them. Like keeping confetti in your pocket for years in case you find yourself in the ...
In a galaxy far, far away, why would the fireworks look like 1990s Earth fireworks? Fireworks technology changes. Also, why does everyone have fireworks displays at the ready? It was a surprise attack by the Rebels (or it was supposed to be). Have they been keeping the fireworks prepared for the last few decades? Seems a bit optimistic of them. Like keeping confetti in your pocket for years in case you find yourself in the ...
July 18, 2010
Top Sekrit Project
Brace yourself. I'm about to begin this post with the most cliched opening possible:
So sorry I haven't blogged in a while!
But I have a very good reason: I've been writing. A lot.
I'm working on a brand-new novel. Can't tell you about it yet. Top sekrit. Shhh... I may have already said too much. *ducks and hides*
Seriously, though, I'm having the BEST time writing this book. All I want to do is write it. I resent having to sleep because it's perfectly good writing time wasted. (Plus...
So sorry I haven't blogged in a while!
But I have a very good reason: I've been writing. A lot.
I'm working on a brand-new novel. Can't tell you about it yet. Top sekrit. Shhh... I may have already said too much. *ducks and hides*
Seriously, though, I'm having the BEST time writing this book. All I want to do is write it. I resent having to sleep because it's perfectly good writing time wasted. (Plus...
June 23, 2010
Writing Advice
I love reading articles about writing advice, especially when that advice comes from other writers, and lately I've come across a flurry of great advice online. So I thought I'd share a few of the articles and blog posts that I've read and enjoyed lately:
"Be Stubborn" by Lilith Saintcrow
"Time Management" by Maggie Stiefvater
"Things I Cannot Change" by Sara Zarr
"Time Lost and Found" by Anne Lamott
"Killing the Sacred Cows of Publishing: Speed" by Dean Wesley Smith
"What Do I Wish I'd Known" by...
"Be Stubborn" by Lilith Saintcrow
"Time Management" by Maggie Stiefvater
"Things I Cannot Change" by Sara Zarr
"Time Lost and Found" by Anne Lamott
"Killing the Sacred Cows of Publishing: Speed" by Dean Wesley Smith
"What Do I Wish I'd Known" by...
June 9, 2010
Percy Jackson and the Free Essay
Until midnight on Tuesday (6/15), Smart Pop Books is offering my essay about Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Olympians series for free on their website!
From my essay "Percy, I Am Your Father" in Demigods and Monsters:
Note to self: Do not become a parent in a fantasy novel. Seriously, have you ever noticed how disturbingly often parents in fantasy novels are dead, kidnapped, missing, clueless, distant, or unknown? Kind of makes me want to round up all the authors, sit them on those...
From my essay "Percy, I Am Your Father" in Demigods and Monsters:
Note to self: Do not become a parent in a fantasy novel. Seriously, have you ever noticed how disturbingly often parents in fantasy novels are dead, kidnapped, missing, clueless, distant, or unknown? Kind of makes me want to round up all the authors, sit them on those...
November 4, 2009
The UK and Me
In ICE, Cassie journeys over the sea ice, across the tundra, and through the boreal forest. And today she has crossed the Atlantic Ocean! Today, ICE is coming out in the UK!
I have very fond memories of the UK. After college, I lived for a year in Cambridge, England. My boyfriend (now husband) had a fellowship there, and I trailed along because, hey, England! Castles! Stonehenge! King Arthur! It turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
That year in England, my husband and I got engaged. Also that year in England, I really became a writer.
I'd known I wanted to be a writer pretty much since I was a cute little blastula. But despite my making a New Year's Resolution to do so every year, when my plane landed in Merry Ol' England, I had yet to complete a full manuscript.
That changed during my year in England.
The reason for the change was the UK Department of Immigration and Visa Services. You see, I had planned to find a job and work while I was there. I had a six-month recent-graduate work permit, but I was certain it could be extended. Imagine my shock when I arrived at the Heathrow Airport and was told that not only could I not work after six months, but I might not be able to stay at all! After six months, I'd have to petition for a visitor's permit and swear not to work or I'd be tossed into the channel and eaten by specially-imported sharks. Or something like that.
I found a job at the Marshall Library for Economics (part of Cambridge University), and I spent a happy six months alphabetizing books and learning to like tea with milk. I also wrote in my spare time.
But then came the day: my six months were up. We woke ridiculously early, took the train south of London, filled out paperwork, waited, and worried... and then got the visitor's permit with no problem and learned that if we'd just decided to spend a romantic weekend in Paris and I'd come back in as a visitor, it would have had the same result. Except then I would have gotten a romantic weekend in Paris instead of a day at the international equivalent of the DMV. Whatever.
Point is: I took it as a sign. The government was telling me I was legally obligated to do nothing but write. And so I did. I wrote every day from morning to night, pausing for trips to Italy and Spain and such where I did things like get lost in hedge mazes.
By the end of our stay, I'd completed my very first novel-length manuscript. I'd also gotten a nice shiny engagement ring!
We took the ring on a tour of London and snapped photos of my hand in front of all the major tourist spots. Sarah's hand and Big Ben. Sarah's hand and Westminster Abbey. Sarah's hand and the Tower of London... I was also pooped on by a bird outside the Tower of London, but I still somehow remember that day as one of the most romantic days of my life. Perhaps if the poop had landed on my head instead of my shoe, I'd feel differently about that... But I digress.
Finishing that manuscript taught me that I could do this. I could write books. I could be a writer. And I will always be grateful to England for that.
So, thank you, my friends across the Atlantic! I hope you enjoy ICE!
And for any aspiring writers out there... you don't really need to go to another country to become a writer. What you do need to do is what I did while I was in another country: write. Write as if you're legally obligated to do so, and don't stop.
Get more on Sarah Beth Durst at SimonandSchuster.com
I have very fond memories of the UK. After college, I lived for a year in Cambridge, England. My boyfriend (now husband) had a fellowship there, and I trailed along because, hey, England! Castles! Stonehenge! King Arthur! It turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
That year in England, my husband and I got engaged. Also that year in England, I really became a writer.
I'd known I wanted to be a writer pretty much since I was a cute little blastula. But despite my making a New Year's Resolution to do so every year, when my plane landed in Merry Ol' England, I had yet to complete a full manuscript.
That changed during my year in England.
The reason for the change was the UK Department of Immigration and Visa Services. You see, I had planned to find a job and work while I was there. I had a six-month recent-graduate work permit, but I was certain it could be extended. Imagine my shock when I arrived at the Heathrow Airport and was told that not only could I not work after six months, but I might not be able to stay at all! After six months, I'd have to petition for a visitor's permit and swear not to work or I'd be tossed into the channel and eaten by specially-imported sharks. Or something like that.
I found a job at the Marshall Library for Economics (part of Cambridge University), and I spent a happy six months alphabetizing books and learning to like tea with milk. I also wrote in my spare time.
But then came the day: my six months were up. We woke ridiculously early, took the train south of London, filled out paperwork, waited, and worried... and then got the visitor's permit with no problem and learned that if we'd just decided to spend a romantic weekend in Paris and I'd come back in as a visitor, it would have had the same result. Except then I would have gotten a romantic weekend in Paris instead of a day at the international equivalent of the DMV. Whatever.
Point is: I took it as a sign. The government was telling me I was legally obligated to do nothing but write. And so I did. I wrote every day from morning to night, pausing for trips to Italy and Spain and such where I did things like get lost in hedge mazes.
By the end of our stay, I'd completed my very first novel-length manuscript. I'd also gotten a nice shiny engagement ring!
We took the ring on a tour of London and snapped photos of my hand in front of all the major tourist spots. Sarah's hand and Big Ben. Sarah's hand and Westminster Abbey. Sarah's hand and the Tower of London... I was also pooped on by a bird outside the Tower of London, but I still somehow remember that day as one of the most romantic days of my life. Perhaps if the poop had landed on my head instead of my shoe, I'd feel differently about that... But I digress.
Finishing that manuscript taught me that I could do this. I could write books. I could be a writer. And I will always be grateful to England for that.
So, thank you, my friends across the Atlantic! I hope you enjoy ICE!
And for any aspiring writers out there... you don't really need to go to another country to become a writer. What you do need to do is what I did while I was in another country: write. Write as if you're legally obligated to do so, and don't stop.
Get more on Sarah Beth Durst at SimonandSchuster.com
October 7, 2009
Thanks, Mom
Book birthdays are a bit like real birthdays. You can't help but look back at how you got here.
My mom is the one who hooked me on books. We used to visit the library constantly and come back with these mountains of books that nearly required a U-Haul to drag home. My mom finally imposed a rule that I was only allowed to take out as many books as I could carry. And so I got really good at stretching my arms out as far as I could and balancing an enormous stack of books between my fingertips and my chin.
She was the one who encouraged me to read fantasy. She introduced me to Lloyd Alexander and Anne McCaffrey and David Eddings, and I introduced her to Susan Cooper and Tamora Pierce and Diana Wynne Jones. Some of my best memories growing up are of her and me curled up side by side on the couch reading, often with a bowl of popcorn nearby. We still give each other books for birthdays nearly every year.
It’s her fault that my house has books everywhere. My bookshelves are two rows deep, and there are stacks of books in the basement too. Her house is the same way.
And of course it is in part because of her that I’m a writer now. I decided back when I was that kid waddling along with a stack of books wedged under my chin that I wanted to create stories and share them. Books to me are these magical things. They’re innocent-looking rectangles that hold entire worlds.
Anyway, on the book birthday for my new book, ICE, I just wanted to say:
Thanks, Mom.
Get more on Sarah Beth Durst at SimonandSchuster.com
My mom is the one who hooked me on books. We used to visit the library constantly and come back with these mountains of books that nearly required a U-Haul to drag home. My mom finally imposed a rule that I was only allowed to take out as many books as I could carry. And so I got really good at stretching my arms out as far as I could and balancing an enormous stack of books between my fingertips and my chin.
She was the one who encouraged me to read fantasy. She introduced me to Lloyd Alexander and Anne McCaffrey and David Eddings, and I introduced her to Susan Cooper and Tamora Pierce and Diana Wynne Jones. Some of my best memories growing up are of her and me curled up side by side on the couch reading, often with a bowl of popcorn nearby. We still give each other books for birthdays nearly every year.
It’s her fault that my house has books everywhere. My bookshelves are two rows deep, and there are stacks of books in the basement too. Her house is the same way.
And of course it is in part because of her that I’m a writer now. I decided back when I was that kid waddling along with a stack of books wedged under my chin that I wanted to create stories and share them. Books to me are these magical things. They’re innocent-looking rectangles that hold entire worlds.
Anyway, on the book birthday for my new book, ICE, I just wanted to say:
Thanks, Mom.
Get more on Sarah Beth Durst at SimonandSchuster.com
