a third star for STORY, thank you so much, VOYA

We were returning from the very briefest of escapades to the beach—two hours, business—when Taylor Norman wrote with the news that VOYA had given THIS IS THE STORY OF YOU its third star.

I'm so happy about that. So happy for this tribute to the sea, to storms, to the communities that form in the aftermath of catastrophe.

From VOYA:

“A moving epic of a super storm and how it unravels the lives of those caught in the midst.”—VOYA: Voice of Youth Advocates, starred review


Kephart creates a moving epic of a super storm and how it unravels the lives of those caught in the midst. Anyone who has ever lived through a hurricane or any other life-changing event in which his or her home is totally destroyed will recognize the bleakness and struggle one must overcome to survive and rebuild. Seventeen-year-old Mira Banul lives with her mother, Mickey, and her brother, Jasper, on Haven, a six-mile long, half-mile wide stretch of barrier island in New Jersey. Jasper Lee suffers from Hunter Syndrome, a rare disease in which he is missing an enzyme. When the storm hits, Mira is alone while her mother and brother are on the mainland. Mira finds the strength to carry on, relying on strangers to help her survive. Mira finds hope in the face of tragedy and learns how to survive despite the odds against her.

Kephart writes in short, lyrical sentences similar to Patricia McCormick’s style in Sold (Hyperion, 2008/VOYA December 2007). Her words read like poetry, creating strong images. Many of the sentences can be interpreted on two levels. For example, in the discussion of how sand is formed, Jasper Lee says, “the heavier the wave, the more powerful the crystal,” which can be interpreted as an analogy for life. There is advice here for everyone, “first rule when you feel afraid is to act.” This book is a quick read, but the memories will linger with readers.

 

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a Kirkus star for HANDLING THE TRUTH

so entirely grateful for this second star from the generous Kirkus reviewer:

A self-described "memoir autodidact" and distinguished author's refreshingly idiosyncratic guide to the art of creative nonfiction.

National Book Award finalist Kephart (Small Damages, 2012, etc.) began her literary career writing "from the margins." This book, which grew out of creative nonfiction classes she taught at the University of Pennsylvania, is not only about "the making of memoir and its consequences," but also "its privileges and pleasures." Though firmly rooted in personal experience, memoir is not an exercise in narcissism. As Kephart shows through examples from writers such as Michael Ondaatje and Annie Dillard, it is a process by which "memoirists open themselves up to self-discovery and make themselves vulnerable." Those interested in writing creative nonfiction must actively read it so that they can begin to know not only what moves them, but what goals to set for themselves in their own work. In setting out to actually write a memoir, Kephart advises writers to start small, using notes on and photographs of everyday life to start, while mining sensory details, situations and landscapes for meaning and metaphor. Awareness of what is at stake, not just for themselves and those whom they portray, but also for their readers, is also crucial. For Kephart, memoir is an act that brings a single person closer to the "us" of collective human experience. In the process of self-discovery—and like the Penn students from whose work she quotes liberally throughout—memoirists must also learn to ask the right questions about the past and about life itself. Perhaps most importantly of all, though, they must remember the things they love. Only then will they find their own authentic way of writing "toward the truth."
Generous, intelligent and genuinely insightful.

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a starred Kirkus review for Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent (and Beth drops to the floor in gratitude)

Years ago (it seems now) I wrote a book about Centennial Philadelphia—a novel about twin sisters of substantial means set against the Exposition that drew 10 million visitors to Philadelphia during 1876 and was endangered, on one incredibly hot day, by a greedy fire. Among my characters was a boy named William, making his way on the poor side of town. William rescued lost animals for a living. He rescued, in many ways, my grieving character, Katherine.

Dangerous Neighbors (Egmont USA/Laura Geringer Books) was originally told in three first-person voices—Katherine's, William's, and the fire's. Published, it was a single third-person telling, focused primarily on Katherine. I never lost sight of William, however. He was vital and alive to me and (I would read in review after review) to many Dangerous Neighbors readers as well.

I lost a major corporate account two years ago and found myself with the time (and desire) to return to William. I dialed back the clock by five years to 1871. I studied the sounds and the stresses of Baldwin Locomotive Works, Eastern State Penitentiary, Schuylkill River races, the odd medicines of the time (such as that sarsaparilla resolvent), and the neighborhood then known as Bush Hill. I gave William a best friend named Career, who worked for my idol, the Public Ledger editor George Childs, and I set the tale in motion. I rewrote this book dozens of times. I struggled with self-doubt, and that loneliness that sets in during the heat of making things.

Finally I asked my husband if he might illustrate the book and give me a cover. I wrote some jacket copy. I talked to Micah Kleit at Temple University Press. Micah and the Temple team had made Flow: The Life and Times of Philadelphia's Schuylkill River happen, and that book—odd, uncategorizable, a risk—has meant the world to me. William's story was also a risk, also a love song to my city. Micah, teaming me with Stephen Parks at New City Community Press, said (thankfully) yes. I asked Quinn Colter, a University of Chicago student with an eye on a copy editing career, if she might read the book looking for type errors. New City Community Press brought in a book designer named Elizabeth Parks, who was very kind (and talented).

And then the book was done and, for a very long time, I held my breath.

I exhaled last week, when Temple University Press's Gary Kramer, a publicist for whom I have enormous respect, sent me this starred review from Kirkus.

Dear Kirkus reviewer, whomever you are: I have no words. I am floored, and I am grateful.

Dr. Radway is due out on April 30th.

DR. RADWAY'S SARSAPARILLA RESOLVENT [STARRED REVIEW!]  
Kephart has crafted a deeply satisfying tale that’s richly evocative of its time and place.
Playing masterfully with words, knitting them into new and deliciously expressive forms, Kephart’s story is one of loss and then redemption. William Quinn is only 14. With his father in the Cherry Hill prison and his genially wayward older brother, Francis, recently beaten to death by a brutal policeman, his mother has ground herself into unbearable, paralyzing grief, and the boy has to find a way to save them both. He has help from many: Career, his cheerfully ambitious best friend; Pearl, a good-hearted prostitute; Molly, a neighbor child who’s deeply smitten with Career; a wayward goat named Daisy; and the abiding memory of Francis. Gradually, William finds a way to make right some terrible wrongs that are only revealed at a perfectly measured pace. Stark, spare illustrations provide an effective counterpoint to the flowing, poetic language. Against the 1871 Philadelphia setting (five years before the related Dangerous Neighbors, 2010), a faultlessly depicted world of sound, energy and ample filth, the fully developed characters of William and Career are trapped in a bleakly hopeless situation. But they never fully give up hoping. Like the very best of historical fiction, this effort combines a timeless tale with a vividly recreated, fascinating world.
An outstanding and ultimately life-affirming tale. (Historical fiction. 11 & up)

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SMALL DAMAGES, Starred Kirkus Review

The thing about these starred reviews is that you don't know who to thank.  I want desperately to thank the kind souls at Kirkus who had this to say about SMALL DAMAGES.  I am blessed.

From Kirkus:

 A young woman is forced into unexpected territory when she is packed off to a vividly imagined, shimmering Spanish countryside in order to conceal an unexpected pregnancy.

Provided by her mother with only the barest of details about a couple that wishes to adopt her baby, Kenzie finds herself an unofficial apprentice in the kitchen of the home of a successful bull breeder connected to the prospective adoptive parents˜ a world away from where the talented filmmaker expected to be following her high school graduation. In an introspective first-person narration, Kenzie's story effortlessly unfolds. Her initially strained relationship with terse Estela, the marvelous chef charged with her safekeeping, eventually melts into a mutual trust. Readers will sympathize deeply with Kenzie‚s emptiness over her father's death, which led the way to a loving but uncommitted relationship with her baby's father, a longtime friend. Parallel to Estela's history is a tale set against Franco's rule, which poignantly serves to help Kenzie sort through her numbed confusion. Characters are never simple in this gorgeous landscape so masterfully described by National Book Awardˆfinalist Kephart; fully engaging in their lives˜touched as they are by gypsies and bullfighters and the tragedy of war˜will require an audience that is willing to be swept up by unfettered romanticism.

Lovely and unusual˜at once epic and intimate. (Fiction. 13 & up)

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