A.S. King on being A.S. King, on her birthday

A.S. King (we call her Amy) and I met a long, freaking time ago in a town call Lititz. She was wearing rubber boots and talking about chickens. She had interesting things to say, said them interestingly. I found her intelligence and wildly sui generis life story daunting, frankly (especially as compared to mine), and I liked her all the more for being her.

In Philadelphia, at an NCTE cocktail party, there she was (What are you drinking? This is what I'm drinking.). On an asphalt drive in Orlando (I'm heading that way? You heading this way?). We took an epic drive across our sweet PA together. I found her flocked by loving fans in Boston (twice). At Chester County Books, at Children's Book World, at events large and small—there was Amy. She gives good readings. She gives thrilling talks. Ask any librarian at the fated event in western PA. I leapt to my two well-heeled feet. (Tears in my eyes.)

Today is Amy's birthday. Today we're celebrating this fearless writer with the legions of fans whose books have earned enough stars to fill a separate galaxy, whose talks get people going, whose very personage wakes up a room. A few days ago she wrote a blog post called "Who's Afraid of A.S. King" that is so smart, so unafraid, so laying it on the line that it deserves many second readings.

Here's what we don't need in The Land of YA: Writers Who Write To Pre-Package-able Themes. Writers Who See Writing As A Halfway Step Toward Bigger Things. Writers Who Religiously Reproduce The Formula—Their Own Or Someone Else's.

A.S. King has never pre-packaged, gone halfway, fit a formula, and we love her for that. Check out that blog post. Check out her books. And wave her a happy birthday for me.

Pictured above: Yours Truly, A.S. King, and K.M. Walton, at Children's Book World.

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Last evening, at the Chester County Book & Music Company,

I read a little from You Are My Only and talked about where my books come from.  But far more important to me was this:  I stood in one of the great independent bookstores (think of this:  the children/YA section of the store is far bigger than my entire house) among kindhearted booksellers, emerging writers (look for K.M Walton's Cracked in mid-December and send good thoughts to Ilene Wong), my tremendous publicist Ellen Trachtenberg, my good friend and Shire colleague, Charlene McGrady, two friends from twenty years ago, and these five West Chester University students, all taking a course in childhood literacy. 

(The lovely young lady in pink also brought her boyfriend along, a history major looking forward, he says, to an upcoming trip to Prague and Berlin, two of my favorite places in the world.)

We talked for a long time and closed the store.  I drove home over leaf-scattered roads, grateful for booksellers and friends and grateful, too, for teachers who send their students out into the world in search of brand new stories.

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