I had a seven-hour solo drive to Atlanta, but I was equipped. Or so I thought.
I was halfway through John Banville’s “Ancient Light” (Random House, 8CDs, 9.5 hours). Banville, a Man Booker award-winner, uses elegant language which came alive with Robin Sach’s skillful reading, and I easily entered the troubled mind of Alexander Cleave. Banville’s reflective novel brilliantly weaves Cleave’s risque affair at 15 with his best friend’s mother, feelings of failure after his daughter’s death, and his introspective thoughts about aging. Sach’s narration meshed all time periods without losing flow and, made the protagonist believable and worthy of compassion.
One of the most complicated and important writing concepts to explain is voice. It’s the way the writer reels a reader in. Voice might be suspenseful, or ironic, or doleful, it makes you want to keep reading. If you add audio voice to the written voice, the power of both grows. This became evident to me in recent reading-listening experiences.
I began with Kathi Appelt’s new book, “The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp” (Atheneum, ages 8-12). It is a perfect read aloud because of its voice. Appelt has written lyrical but darker tales. Now her poetic tone appears in a romping adventure that believably blends fantasy and reality. The sense of place is evocative and the characters are engaging. All of these are beautifully bound together because of Appelt’s voice.
I know the language of picture books well. I cringe at dialogue that doesn't ring true and prose that clunks. I swoon over unusual word uses. I also believe that some of the most glorious art in America is found in its picture books.
I’m often wowed by illustrations, but not always sure why. Recently, I taught a 10-hour continuing education class specifically for art teachers. My goal was to link reading, writing, art and Common Core State Standards. My suspicion was that I would learn more than I taught. I was right. I wasn't alone; those in the class who were non-art specialists had our eyes opened by the superb vision of two amazing art teachers, Deb Cox and Barbi Bailey-Smith. Here’s a small peek at the kind of things we learned.
I have been an Ann Patchett fan for years. I have enjoyed the range and invention of her novels and even suspended disbelief as, in “State of Wonder,” she led me on an unlikely literary journey in the jungles of the Amazon .
I never knew her skill at nonfiction until I came upon her recent collection of 22 essays published from 1997- 2012, gathered in “This is the Story of a Happy Marriage” (book from Harper; audios from HarperAudio, 11 hours, 35 minutes). I listened to all of the essays, some of them a second time and then bought the book so I re-read the many passages that spoke to me. Listening and reading, I found myself in evocative landscapes layered with meanings that lingered and phrases that stopped me with elegance, honesty, or playfulness.
Adult readers may wait out slow starts or overlook overwriting; not younger readers. They demand strong characters, quick-moving plots, authentic dialogue and stories that stay with you after you close the covers. Reluctant readers are even harsher critics.
Matt de la Peña is a writer that young adults can count on.
“How can a year that ends in ’13 possibly go well?” said a colleague after I’d crabbed about various and sundry muck-ups and a painful shoulder that was threatening to freeze up. In addition, I suffered from the negative effect of having eaten and drunk with abandon over the holidays and was rapidly reaching that itchy feeling inside that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Thankfully, as if one of the Fates heard my misery, I fell into a string of happy coincidences.
Both my son and daughter inherited my husband’s introvert genes and, to be honest, I’ve long guessed I might have a stash of my own. While I thrive on presenting, I get tired quickly in the bustle of the world, am uncomfortable at big parties and lost when it comes to cocktail party conversations. Listening to Susan Cain’s “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking” (Random House, 9 CDs, 10.5 hours) clarified and confirmed my feelings.
My childhood holiday memories are a collision — gifts spreading across the living room floor, an alcohol-inspired parental fight, my mother playing Christmas carols on the piano, scarfing one too many of those powdered-sugar nut balls.
I’m captured by memoirs that provide intriguing walks through the lives of others, but the ones that impact me most are those that send me down the paths of my own remembering. Two recent audios touched a deep core.
Presenting the second part of the 17th annual Wilde Awards for longer books. Because there are too many books and too little print space, you’ll find more suggestions at www.heraldsun.com.
Presenting the 17th annual Wilde Awards, honoring the best books of the year for young readers. This week, the best picture books of the year. Coming in December, the best longer books. Join me for the Wilde Awards Live at Flyleaf on Dec. 5. And because there are too many books and too little print space, you’ll find more suggestions at www.heraldsun.com.
When I wound up with an airline voucher that would go away if I didn’t spend it, I decided to return “home” to Santa Barbara for the first time in close to 10 years. Even though I’ve lived in Chapel Hill for 23 years, a part of me still yearns for beach walks, mountain hikes, my many friends and the fare of Superica Taqueria.
Rainbow Rowell burst on the scene with “Eleanor and Park” (St Martin’s Griffin, ages 14 and up), the story of an unpopular, unattractive, prickly young woman who wins the love of Park. Park, the book’s second narrator, gets past Eleanor’s guardedness and learns heartbreaking truths that rule her life. Rowell’s first book captured children’s book fans, including the celebrated YA author John Green who wrote a glowing New York Times article, and five writers who gave it starred reviews.
One always wonders about new books from authors whose books have created a sensation. Will they be able to fulfill the promise, or was this a one-time amazement? Elizabeth Wein and Rainbow Rowell have each published a second book this year and all these books deliver!
My children were on the edge of leaving home, my husband told me he wasn’t into traveling when they left, and my work crashed and burned. These events coincided just before I turned 50, scooting me into the depression I’d been skirting for a couple years. A thick glass wall rose from some ugly inferno and slipped between me and the rest of the world. The wall magnified laughter and amplified the conversations of those on the other side. I moped, sulked and lurked invisible behind its glare. I stopped going to parties. Being around more than one other person made me so nervous I’d vanish behind the wall’s cold shield.