We have a title!
Ready?
I'm really happy to announce that my upcoming YA novel will be called..Three Day Summer!
And because I didn't share all of this info before, here is the full pitch:
Three Day Summer is about two teens whose lives are
forever changed when they meet for a weekend of music and romance during
the biggest music festival the world has ever seen, pitched as Nick and
Norah's Infinite Playlist meets Bridget Jones, with hippies.
What do you think of the title?
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
New Book News!
I don't think I can fully express how excited I am to finally share this news so, without further ado...
Okay, one ado...this photo:
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers will be publishing my new YA novel! We're still searching for a perfect title, but I can tell you that it's my Woodstock love story pitched as Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist meets Bridget Jones. It's got hippies! And music! And humor! And romance! It was honestly the most fun I ever had writing a book and I am beyond thrilled to finally get to share it with you.
So many, many thanks to my agent Victoria Marini and my new editor Dani Young. I cannot wait to work with the team at S&S. And I absolutely cannot wait for you to finally get to read this one...currently slated for Summer 2015!
XOXO
Okay, one ado...this photo:
So many, many thanks to my agent Victoria Marini and my new editor Dani Young. I cannot wait to work with the team at S&S. And I absolutely cannot wait for you to finally get to read this one...currently slated for Summer 2015!
XOXO
Friday, June 13, 2014
The Best Question I Ever Got Asked
I did a school visit today and I got asked a lot of amazing questions (because 4th and 5th graders always ask the best questions, no lie)...but there was one that really made me pause. In fact, I think it might be one of the best philosophical questions I've ever gotten asked.
We were talking about reviews, and one student asked me: "If you know you're going to get bad reviews, why would you even show anyone your work?"
Wow. What a perfect question. The funny thing is, when I was her age, I would never have even thought about showing my work to anybody. Even though it was my dream to "publish a book," I kept all my writing to myself. In fact, I didn't show anything to anyone until I had to submit a short story to get into my undergrad film program. And then, as it turned out, I got thrown into the deep end at film school where, of course, you're constantly making work to get critiqued. (And thank goodness for that. I may not have a very thick skin still, but it's much thicker than it would have been without it.)
So...why do I? My response wasn't that bad reviews don't bother me. Or that it doesn't matter what someone who doesn't like my book says. Because none of those would be entirely true--though I have learned to not be personally affronted by them (for the most part...). In essence, I had to think about why I tell stories, really. I tell them for myself, yes, but I also tell them in the hopes that they can be shared. That in the midst of writing them, I will happen upon some truth that means something to me but that, hopefully, means something to someone else too. That's what books have always done for me. That's what I always aspire for mine to do. And that's what makes it worth it.
How would you answer that question?
We were talking about reviews, and one student asked me: "If you know you're going to get bad reviews, why would you even show anyone your work?"
Wow. What a perfect question. The funny thing is, when I was her age, I would never have even thought about showing my work to anybody. Even though it was my dream to "publish a book," I kept all my writing to myself. In fact, I didn't show anything to anyone until I had to submit a short story to get into my undergrad film program. And then, as it turned out, I got thrown into the deep end at film school where, of course, you're constantly making work to get critiqued. (And thank goodness for that. I may not have a very thick skin still, but it's much thicker than it would have been without it.)
So...why do I? My response wasn't that bad reviews don't bother me. Or that it doesn't matter what someone who doesn't like my book says. Because none of those would be entirely true--though I have learned to not be personally affronted by them (for the most part...). In essence, I had to think about why I tell stories, really. I tell them for myself, yes, but I also tell them in the hopes that they can be shared. That in the midst of writing them, I will happen upon some truth that means something to me but that, hopefully, means something to someone else too. That's what books have always done for me. That's what I always aspire for mine to do. And that's what makes it worth it.
How would you answer that question?
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Books I Love: High and Dry
I've been immersing myself in Veronica Mars for the past month. As a die-hard fan of the original show, of course I jumped at the chance to join the Kickstarter campaign last year to get the film on the big screen. As you likely know, that campaign was a huge success, shattering records left and right and, most importantly, resurrecting my beloved Veronica (and Logan, let's face it).
After I saw the movie in theaters, I rewatched the whole series, then watched the movie again, and then read the book that just came out (The Thousand-Dollar Tanline). Like I said: immersive!
But what's a Veronica Mars fan to do while she impatiently waits for the second book (and, hopefully, a Veronica Mars 2 movie*cough*Rob Thomas*cough*...)? Might I recommend picking up Sarah Skilton's just-released High & Dry?
Several years ago, I went on a noir kick, reading classics from the likes of Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane. I discovered so much nuance to this genre--the language, the prototypical characters and, of course, the mysteries. I really got into it--especially the hard-boiled private dick speak, see? I found the genre almost otherworldly in its depictions and yet, so wildly fun to read.
This is why I think High and Dry is particularly a work of genius. It takes noir to the world of contemporary high school (much like VM did), dives in headfirst, and totally works. It's a deeply stylized book that examines the seedy underbelly of its setting in exactly the same way Hammett and Spillane would. Yet, despite this stylization, it remains so truthful to the darker side of high school life. And, of course, it has a wonderful mystery at its center. (Also, I am now going to fully admit that when I first read this, I totally imagined main character Charlie as Logan Echolls. Which upped the smoldering/dreamy factor for me. You are welcome to steal this visualization).
Give it a whirl. And, if you like it and haven't had a chance to read The Thin Man or The Big Sleep yet, I would wholeheartedly recommend them, too.
After I saw the movie in theaters, I rewatched the whole series, then watched the movie again, and then read the book that just came out (The Thousand-Dollar Tanline). Like I said: immersive!
Several years ago, I went on a noir kick, reading classics from the likes of Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane. I discovered so much nuance to this genre--the language, the prototypical characters and, of course, the mysteries. I really got into it--especially the hard-boiled private dick speak, see? I found the genre almost otherworldly in its depictions and yet, so wildly fun to read.
This is why I think High and Dry is particularly a work of genius. It takes noir to the world of contemporary high school (much like VM did), dives in headfirst, and totally works. It's a deeply stylized book that examines the seedy underbelly of its setting in exactly the same way Hammett and Spillane would. Yet, despite this stylization, it remains so truthful to the darker side of high school life. And, of course, it has a wonderful mystery at its center. (Also, I am now going to fully admit that when I first read this, I totally imagined main character Charlie as Logan Echolls. Which upped the smoldering/dreamy factor for me. You are welcome to steal this visualization).
Give it a whirl. And, if you like it and haven't had a chance to read The Thin Man or The Big Sleep yet, I would wholeheartedly recommend them, too.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Write Like Nobody Is Reading
Hi friends,
Also, I've made a vow to stop neglecting my blog. My biggest problem over the past year or so has been trying to figure out what to write about. But I think I'm going to take that "dance like nobody is watching" adage for a spin and write like nobody is reading. By which I mean, I'll write whatever I want and stop feeling so anxious about it (not that I'm not grateful for anybody who is deigning to read this, because I am. And, hi!) So stay tuned here for stuff about movies, books, television, and general geekery that I am currently obsessing over.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Sarvenaz Tash and the Perfectionist's Stone
Last week, on the very last day of 2013, I was having a discussion with someone about perfectionism. I am--oftentimes to my detriment but sometimes to my credit--a perfectionist. The question that was posed to me was why be a perfectionist when you innately know that nothing is perfect.
I've never had the question put to me like that before and my response actually surprised myself. I said: the thing is that there are things that are perfect to me. And those things are generally works of art: books, movies, pieces of music. I immediately thought about how the Harry Potter series, Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones's Diary, The Westing Game were works that I found flawless. Movies like West Side Story, When Harry Met Sally and The Sound of Music. Songs like "Here Comes the Sun," "Landslide," "The Way You Make Me Feel," and even "Toxic."
Do I know that not everyone loves these things the way that I do? Of course. People even hate them. Do I care? No. That means they aren't inherently perfect. They are just perfect to me. They make me laugh, they make me cry, or they just put me in a better mood because they make me dance (I'm looking at you, Brit). Some of them make me examine my life through their lens, and some of them just let me escape reality entirely for a while.
So when I pursue perfectionism in my own work, I think that's really what I'm after. Can I create something that means something to somebody out there in this great, big world? Not everybody, just somebody. And how can I do that without fine-tuning it over and over again, trying to make it the best it can possibly be, even seeking something that doesn't exist? That is the one thing I don't think I can turn off, that I think I owe to my potential somebody.
The way I see it, the time, energy and passion that you put into creative work is what I think is reflected back, and always at a dimmer wattage then what you put in. I think that's why I'm always trying to carve out the brightest story I can. So that maybe, in the reflection, it can still give somebody some light.
Now the answer to whether I will continue to drive myself crazy while doing that is...of course. But, then again, I have it on good authority that a very many of my creative heroes put in a lot of hard work to create my very favorite things. I'm so grateful they did.
I've never had the question put to me like that before and my response actually surprised myself. I said: the thing is that there are things that are perfect to me. And those things are generally works of art: books, movies, pieces of music. I immediately thought about how the Harry Potter series, Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones's Diary, The Westing Game were works that I found flawless. Movies like West Side Story, When Harry Met Sally and The Sound of Music. Songs like "Here Comes the Sun," "Landslide," "The Way You Make Me Feel," and even "Toxic."
Do I know that not everyone loves these things the way that I do? Of course. People even hate them. Do I care? No. That means they aren't inherently perfect. They are just perfect to me. They make me laugh, they make me cry, or they just put me in a better mood because they make me dance (I'm looking at you, Brit). Some of them make me examine my life through their lens, and some of them just let me escape reality entirely for a while.
So when I pursue perfectionism in my own work, I think that's really what I'm after. Can I create something that means something to somebody out there in this great, big world? Not everybody, just somebody. And how can I do that without fine-tuning it over and over again, trying to make it the best it can possibly be, even seeking something that doesn't exist? That is the one thing I don't think I can turn off, that I think I owe to my potential somebody.
The way I see it, the time, energy and passion that you put into creative work is what I think is reflected back, and always at a dimmer wattage then what you put in. I think that's why I'm always trying to carve out the brightest story I can. So that maybe, in the reflection, it can still give somebody some light.
Now the answer to whether I will continue to drive myself crazy while doing that is...of course. But, then again, I have it on good authority that a very many of my creative heroes put in a lot of hard work to create my very favorite things. I'm so grateful they did.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
TV I Love: 'An Adventure in Space and Time'
So, as you may or may not know, I'm a pretty big Doctor Who fan. (And yes, I've been epically excited for today's 50th anniversary special and no, it did not disappoint!!) But because I am about 20 years younger than the show, and because I did not grow up in the U.K., I have to admit I didn't know much about the history of it or about the doctors before the 2005 incarnation of the show, when I started watching.
So I was definitely intrigued by the concept of An Adventure in Space and Time, which tells the story of the inception of the show back in 1963. The film stars David Bradley (a.k.a. Filch) as William Hartnell, the actor who played the first doctor, and it centers on the creative struggles to get a little sci-fi children's show off the ground. I learned that the show was the BBC's first to employ a female producer (Verity Lambert) and an Indian director (Waris Hussein).
Let me just tell you: I loved this movie. Not only because it involved fangirl/boy moments of watching the creative team come up with the theme song, the TARDIS sound effect and the concept of a Dalek, but also because it was about something much more enormous and universal: the power of art to endure.
When you see a producer passionately fighting about why a Dalek needs to be in an episode, or an actor getting deeply immersed in the switches on his character's time machine, it's funny and compelling. But it's also deeply moving, especially for someone who has a lifelong interest in telling stories. It reminds me that those arguments those people had, the passion they showed for their work, it all mattered. They started something that has lasted for 50 years, it has impacted culture and people's lives for generations, it has given something for people to look forward to, to be entertained by, and to learn from.
And, really, isn't that the point of all art? How extraordinary it is to create something that makes an impact in someone else's life, that elicits emotions and reactions, that is, ultimately, much bigger than its creator. It's breathtakingly magical and it exists here, in the real, (unfortunately) TARDIS-free world.
I'm so grateful to this wonderful movie for reminding me of that. And, of course, if you have a chance to see it, I obviously can't recommend it enough. (P.S. It was written by the brilliant Mark Gatiss, who not only wrote a bunch of Who episodes but plays Mycroft in Sherlock!)
 |
| David Bradley stars as William Hartnell in 'An Adventure in Space and Time.'' Photo by Hal Shinnie/BBC. |
Let me just tell you: I loved this movie. Not only because it involved fangirl/boy moments of watching the creative team come up with the theme song, the TARDIS sound effect and the concept of a Dalek, but also because it was about something much more enormous and universal: the power of art to endure.
When you see a producer passionately fighting about why a Dalek needs to be in an episode, or an actor getting deeply immersed in the switches on his character's time machine, it's funny and compelling. But it's also deeply moving, especially for someone who has a lifelong interest in telling stories. It reminds me that those arguments those people had, the passion they showed for their work, it all mattered. They started something that has lasted for 50 years, it has impacted culture and people's lives for generations, it has given something for people to look forward to, to be entertained by, and to learn from.
And, really, isn't that the point of all art? How extraordinary it is to create something that makes an impact in someone else's life, that elicits emotions and reactions, that is, ultimately, much bigger than its creator. It's breathtakingly magical and it exists here, in the real, (unfortunately) TARDIS-free world.
I'm so grateful to this wonderful movie for reminding me of that. And, of course, if you have a chance to see it, I obviously can't recommend it enough. (P.S. It was written by the brilliant Mark Gatiss, who not only wrote a bunch of Who episodes but plays Mycroft in Sherlock!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)