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newstheljstaff)kellyrfineman)
So. That happened.
This review won't contain any spoilers about this or the following book. I do not make that claim for the comments, however, where I shall feel free to discuss the movie (and the books) at length should the opportunity to arise. So, you know, avert your eyes from the comments section if you have any concerns along those lines, m'kay?
M and I went to the 12:30 show this afternoon. There were literally over 300 empty seats in the theatre (which holds something like 400 people). S went at midnight last night (in a Gryffindor T-shirt, with two of her guy friends in matching shirts) and said it was packed. The 3 o'clock shows looked to be much fuller, and the 6-ish shows are already sold out. I expect the movie to do pretty huge box office. And, I might add, rightfully so.
I have to say that I think it's one of the best HP films yet. Sadly, a ton of stuff was jettisoned and a bunch of things were compressed, but I get why those choices were made. The fact that they consulted Rowling when writing the script and/or had access to Deathly Hallows is evident from some of the stuff that either got left in or added. I am pleased NOT to have seen it in 3-D IMAX, because I am nearly certain that a particular London scene near the start and the quidditch scenes (which were AWESOME) would probably make me barf if I saw them in either 3D or IMAX, let alone in both.
I give it high marks for developing the relationships among the main characters, and in managing to make the Draco plot make sense, particularly given that so much of it occurs off-stage. Also, high marks for not making a cliff-hanger of a book feel completely like a cliff-hanger movie. Sure, it leaves us on the edge of the end, but not in the way that the book left us all pretty much dangling by our nails from a slender branch extended out of the cliff's side. 
Considering that we're looking at November 19, 2010 for part 1 of Deathly Hallows (which will necessarily have to have a cliffhanger ending, I believe) and at July 15, 2011 for the end of the end of the movies. In a recent interview, David Yates (director of Phoenix, HBP and Deathly Hallows) said part one will be "like a road movie, refugees being chased by all these people who want to kill them. It’s quite intense." The first movie will use documentary and cinema verité camera work, according to Yates. About part two, he said, "The final film is like this big opera, big epic, it’s got more set pieces than any of the others." The final battle promises to be huge and epic; I'm looking forward to it.
To M, the movie made far more sense than the book, although I believe she's only read it once, which may explain things; like her mother, she reads quickly, and she flies so fast when she's nervous about something that she doesn't always catch it all. That was particularly true in Deathly Hallows, where so many characters die that it's hard to mark all of the deaths. In fact, a recent conversation with our podiatrist ended up talking about the HP books, and he had failed to notice the death of a particular favorite character during the Battle of Hogwarts (who shall remain nameless for the handful of people out there who have not yet read the book and wouldn't want it spoiled). Suffice it to say that M still hasn't forgiven Rowling for that particular character's demise. Although as a writer, she completely respects Rowling for having made that choice, which had to be pretty much gut-wrenching, she remains actually upset about this particular fictional death nearly 2 years later. While I see her point as to why the death is particularly upsetting and unfair, I'm surprised it's still so visceral for her. Now that is some good writing.
So, did you see it yet? If so, what did you think? If not, are you going to?
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bluerosegirls)
I just finished teaching my section of the Solstice low-residency MFA program in YA/Children's lit and I can't say enough good things about it. I wish I had gone to a program like this before publishing, it's such a smart group of people--students and staff (including the very sharp and funny co-teacher Laban Hill), all passionate about writing. 
ignescent)
Not because of any real need to be by the servers, but because the AC was /very/ nice when I needed it. Today has been dragging beyond belief, for all that a vip got migrated this morning. I just went out for a 15 minute walk (.18 miles. new pedometer = shiny) around campus to try and perk myself up. It worked tolerably well, but now I'm all hot. *shrugs*
long_stockings)
lorieanngrover)
Ed Masessa works for Scholastic Book Fair and loves to tease me. We had a very fun reunion at the Scholastic Brunch. 
David Levithan was extremely generous and fun to be around.
Christopher Meyers was absolutely hip and sincere. He asked immediately how tall I am. :~) I appreciated getting to look up to him!
And finally Richard Peck. How awesome to compare shoes. The man is definitely dapper.
writingya)
Surely you've not only heard from Little Willow about the Readergirlz/P.L.A.I.N. Janes Art Saves project by now, but also submitted your fabulous and fascinating artwork for her to post. Or, if you're me, you've been writing and/or revising for several hours a day and have totally lost track of time and have the printed sheet (right) sitting next to you on the end table and staring you down meaningfully, asking where your good intentions went. Either way, check the Readergirlz blog for updates, and make your artistic contribution this month!This work is copyrighted material. Please contact the weblog owner for further details.
lectitans)
For my purposes, the term "kidlit" includes young adult literature as well.
For many reasons, I'm looking to become more active in the kidlit community. I know who the major blog players are. I'm a member of the Kidlitosphere listserv. I'm also a member of Child_Lit. I'm just wondering if there's anywhere I'm missing where really great conversations are going on.
Suggestions, anyone?
catsandjammers)
Photo: Todd Heisler/New York TimesThis morning over breakfast, I was immediately drawn to an article in today's NY Times," The Collected Ingredients of a Beijing Life " by Holland Carter. The article is about the Chinese artist Song Dong, and his wonderful installation at MoMa entitled "Waste Not." Mr. Song has taken the entire contents of the house of his mother, Zhao Xiangyuan, and arranged them in the museum's atrium, along with a piece of the house itself. Presented in sorted piles of like objects, the art is a testament to the idea of a life defined by the possessions one accumulates and hoards.
Photo: Todd Heisler/New York TimesIt is no secret from my blog post that I consider love, creativity, art and objects ( both ordinary and exceptional) to be be the stuff that life is made of. Essentially, I think who we are as humans is defined by how we love, how we create, and what we choose to collect and surround ourselves with. My grandmother was someone who loved and spoiled and fed me. But she was also the person who collected an enormous quantity of knick knacks and figurines; held on to every piece of clothing she ever owned; saved every plastic shopping bag and Cool Whip container she came across, and who was joined at the hip to her sewing machine. When I remember her, I always remember her in the context of these things. They were as much a part of who she was as the endless hugs and kisses and lasagna she bestowed upon me.
beckybooks)
Jerome, Jerome K. 1900. Three Men On the Bummel. 168 pages.There may be a better land where bicycle saddles are made out of rainbow, stuffed with cloud; in this world the simplest thing is to get used to something hard. (199)
About the teaching of French to English school children:He handed me a small book bound in red cloth. It was a guide to English conversation for the use of German travellers. It commenced “On a Steam-boat,” and terminated “At the Doctor’s”; its longest chapter being devoted to conversation in a railway carriage, among, apparently, a compartment load of quarrelsome and ill-mannered lunatics: “Can you not get further away from me, sir?”—“It is impossible, madam; my neighbour, here, is very stout”—“Shall we not endeavour to arrange our legs?”—“Please have the goodness to keep your elbows down”—“Pray do not inconvenience yourself, madam, if my shoulder is of any accommodation to you,” whether intended to be said sarcastically or not, there was nothing to indicate—“I really must request you to move a little, madam, I can hardly breathe,” the author’s idea being, presumably, that by this time the whole party was mixed up together on the floor. The chapter concluded with the phrase, “Here we are at our destination, God be thanked! (Gott sei dank!)” a pious exclamation, which under the circumstances must have taken the form of a chorus.
At the end of the book was an appendix, giving the German traveller hints concerning the preservation of his health and comfort during his sojourn in English towns, chief among such hints being advice to him to always travel with a supply of disinfectant powder, to always lock his bedroom door at night, and to always carefully count his small change.
“It is not a brilliant publication,” I remarked, handing the book back to George; “it is not a book that personally I would recommend to any German about to visit England; I think it would get him disliked. But I have read books published in London for the use of English travellers abroad every whit as foolish. Some educated idiot, misunderstanding seven languages, would appear to go about writing these books for the misinformation and false guidance of modern Europe.”
“You cannot deny,” said George, “that these books are in large request. They are bought by the thousand, I know. In every town in Europe there must be people going about talking this sort of thing.”
“Maybe,” I replied; “but fortunately nobody understands them. I have noticed, myself, men standing on railway platforms and at street corners reading aloud from such books. Nobody knows what language they are speaking; nobody has the slightest knowledge of what they are saying. This is, perhaps, as well; were they understood they would probably be assaulted.”
George said: “Maybe you are right; my idea is to see what would happen if they were understood. My proposal is to get to London early on Wednesday morning, and spend an hour or two going about and shopping with the aid of this book. There are one or two little things I want—a hat and a pair of bedroom slippers, among other articles. Our boat does not leave Tilbury till twelve, and that just gives us time. I want to try this sort of talk where I can properly judge of its effect. I want to see how the foreigner feels when he is talked to in this way.”
It struck me as a sporting idea. In my enthusiasm I offered to accompany him, and wait outside the shop. I said I thought that Harris would like to be in it, too—or rather outside.
George said that was not quite his scheme. His proposal was that Harris and I should accompany him into the shop. With Harris, who looks formidable, to support him, and myself at the door to call the police if necessary, he said he was willing to adventure the thing.
We walked round to Harris’s, and put the proposal before him. He examined the book, especially the chapters dealing with the purchase of shoes and hats. He said:
“If George talks to any bootmaker or any hatter the things that are put down here, it is not support he will want; it is carrying to the hospital that he will need.”
That made George angry.
“You talk,” said George, “as though I were a foolhardy boy without any sense. I shall select from the more polite and less irritating speeches; the grosser insults I shall avoid.”
This being clearly understood, Harris gave in his adhesion; and our start was fixed for early Wednesday morning. (207-209)
For they have a way of teaching languages in Germany that is not our way, and the consequence is that when the German youth or maiden leaves the gymnasium or high school at fifteen, “it” (as in Germany one conveniently may say) can understand and speak the tongue it has been learning. In England we have a method that for obtaining the least possible result at the greatest possible expenditure of time and money is perhaps unequalled. An English boy who has been through a good middle-class school in England can talk to a Frenchman, slowly and with difficulty, about female gardeners and aunts; conversation which, to a man possessed perhaps of neither, is liable to pall. Possibly, if he be a bright exception, he may be able to tell the time, or make a few guarded observations concerning the weather. No doubt he could repeat a goodly number of irregular verbs by heart; only, as a matter of fact, few foreigners care to listen to their own irregular verbs, recited by young Englishmen. Likewise he might be able to remember a choice selection of grotesquely involved French idioms, such as no modern Frenchman has ever heard or understands when he does hear.
...I confine my remarks to French, because that is the only language we attempt to teach our youth. An English boy who could speak German would be looked down upon as unpatriotic. Why we waste time in teaching even French according to this method I have never been able to understand. A perfect unacquaintance with a language is respectable. But putting aside comic journalists and lady novelists, for whom it is a business necessity, this smattering of French which we are so proud to possess only serves to render us ridiculous. (240, 242)
yzocaet)
yzocaet)
readingyear)
lucky breaks"Eleven. Lucky thought from her seat at the back of the school bus, eleven, eleven, eleven, and the idea of it the sound of it threw off sparks in her head. You start with one, two, three: those clunky one-syllable beginner-ages like wooden blocks that toddlers play with. Keep going and you get to eight, nine, ten: the plodding steps you have to climb until, at last, you arrive. Finally, finally, you reach the best age, the one that, when you say it out loud, sounds like a little tap dance or a drumroll....She pictured 11 as a swinging double door, a saloon door in an old Western; you push the sides open, bam, with both hands and stride through before they flap shut again, your childhood behind you." (p.1-2)
charlotteslibra)
There were other words in the article, about the publication of Fire (a nice story about publishers playing nicely together), but the words I quoted are obviously of greatest importance. 2011 is less than 17 months away.
mountainmist)The sounds of summer are thick in the air in Birmingham. We're looking at apartments and cars. The girls are impressed by the heat, which feels like my childhood - thick heavy heat and people are pretty much off the street in Homewood by 4:30 or 5:00 in the afternoon. They must come back out again in the evening. I'd like to capture just first impressions of these early days. We're looking at neighborhoods like Homewood, Five Points, and we even checked out Irondale as an homage to Fannie Flagg, but Norah, whose favorite movie is FRIED GREEN TOMATOES, said, "I feel empty inside here." Lucy told her to quit being so dramatic. Lucy said Irondale made her feel like she was going to visit her grandparents, but I loved the train tracks and old tressels.
A young real estate guy took us around to look at different places mostly in Homewood. He was friendly and upbeat and looked a lot like one of Kiffen's brothers. He actually pointed out flaws in places - "bad windows," "street noise," and "the landlord doesn't fix anything at this place, but he's so rich he has nannies and cooks and chefs." It was refreshing because he wasn't a salesman in the hardcore sense at all. He mostly talked about great barbecue places and other points of interest in Birmingham, though he didn't know the story behind the "Vulcan" statue on Red Mountain (the largest cast iron statue in the world). Kiffen sat up front and they chatted the way men do...Our real estate guy drove a truck and his Bible slid across the floor of the backseat and landed at my feet. I put it back on the seat. We saw the school where Norah might go if she transfers mid-year, and it's across the street from the Piggly Wiggly. Yesterday, she asked, "What IS the Piggly Wiggly?"
We took the girls to UAB (University of Alabama) and they really liked it...I just wanted to give them a visual of the campus. Lucy will be in New York this fall, and Norah will be in Los Angeles with my husband, Kiffen, and Flannery will be at UC Santa Barbara, so this is a big year of change and covering such different points of the country. We also went to the Civil Rights Institute, which was extraordinary and overwhelming. It is right across from the !6th Street Baptist Church. Norah loved seeing the pictures of Rosa Parks.
Anyway, time to roust the kids and do more looking around...the people wave and smile, and the businessmen wear suits even in this heat. One of the professors is coming over today with the want-ads, and we're going to look at more places. The girls really want Harry Potter today, so that will happen too, or, at least it will happen for them.
THE VULCAN "is the Roman god of fire (aka God of the Forge)" 
wildrosereader)
queer_reads)
By Leslea Newman, illustrated by Carol Thompson"Mommy picks me up, up, up. Mama pours juice in my cup."There's an outing, a nap, cooking together, a bath, and then our first person hero (or heroine, the illustrations leave it open for us to interpret the child's gender) is tucked in and kissed goodnight.
sarahmillerbook)
I've blogged about this before, but it was a loooong time ago. There's this incredible live show called MORTIFIED. I first heard about it on NPR and was smitten.
Anyway, here's what happens. Seemingly sane adults get up on stage and READ from their actual tween/teen DIARIES. I know! Either these people are really brave, or they are missing the get-embarrassed gene.
So Wednesday night, I made my second journey to Hollywood to see the show again . . .
(Above: The Mortified band sets the mood for the show.)
Here are some former youth offering up their personal humiliation for the greater good and guffaws . . .
While there, Peepy was thrilled to see Eddie Gamara, literary manager/producer from the Gotham Group. He works with the creators of Mortified, so Peeps cornered him . . .
She's angling for her own show. Eddie had her audition and said he'd consider it . . .
Speaking of mortification and trauma, here are my high school diaries . . .
I had taped them together because whatever I had written was apparently soooooo deep, secretive and explosive. When I did read them recently, I promptly wanted to tape them up again. The angst. The drama. The self-pity. It was just like a laundry detergent commercial, only without the happy ending.
If you can't make it to see MORTIFIED in person, there's also a book. I have my own copy. Reading about other people's torments always makes me feel better about myself . . .
Lemme see . . . what else is up? Well on Friday, July 17th, I'll be teaching Plot, along with Amy Goldman Koss, at the South Pasadena Public Library.
On July 29th, I'll be part of "Young Adult Authors Anthologized: Cecil Castellucci, Aimee Bender, Melissa De La Cruz & Lisa Yee" at Skylight Bookstore. CLICK HERE for more information. I'll be reading from a short story I have in the new anthology, GEEKTASTIC: STORIES FROM THE NERD HERD.
Here's me in high school. I was a debate geek . . .
BOBBY VS. GIRLS (ACCIDENTALLY) illustrator/pal Dan Santat and I are the celebrity judges for editor Cheryl Klein's "Worst Possible Opening Sentence for an Imaginary Children's or YA Novel" Contest. CLICK HERE to enter or read the entries. The contest closes on Friday night. Here's Cheryl and Moi in her office earlier this year discussing astrophysics . . .
Hmmm . . . it's been a while since I've had a contest. Maybe I should start thinking of one. Here's one I ran a while back that made people spit out their coffee . . . but in a good way. CLICK HERE for a barrel or more of laughs.
And finally, a couple of people have alerted me TO THIS. Yes! A Peeps store--at long last.
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