THIS IS THE STORY OF YOU, GOING OVER, and ONE THING STOLEN now available for pennies

And so this is April 1, April Fool's Day, also (doesn't it fit?) my birthday, and Chronicle has written to say that two of my books, THIS IS THE STORY OF YOU (my Jersey Shore monster storm mystery) and ONE THING STOLEN (which takes place in Florence, Italy, and West Philadelphia), are now available across all digital platforms for mere pennies (well, $1.99 and $.99 to be exact) for the entire month of April. It's part of the Chronicle Eye Candy e-book promotion, and I've promised to share the word.

This just in: The same is true for GOING OVER. So. My last three novels all available through April for less than $2.00.

So I am sharing the word as I wish all of you many flowers following the showers this early Spring.

Links below:

ONE THING STOLEN
Kindle
Apple iBookstore
Nookre/books/details/Beth_Kephart_One_Thing_Stolen?id=JQJiBQAAQBAJ&hl=en
Kobo
Bookshout

THIS IS THE STORY OF YOU
Kindle
Apple iBookstore
Nook
Google Play
Kobo
Bookshout

Read more...

books and mud: remembering the flooding of the Arno (and One Thing Stolen)

Oh, bless that Taylor Norman of Chronicle Books, forever uplifting, forever near. Her email of yesterday shared this news that the 50th anniversary of the terrible flooding of Arno will be honored in San Francisco's own American Bookbinders Museum.

This was the natural and cultural catastrophe that inspired my novel One Thing Stolen (Chronicle Books). This forever-proximate possibility of culture (and the art of the mind) being lost to forces beyond anyone's control.

As Matthew barrels down on this earth, as natural disasters hovers, as we keep looking for more credible ways to feel secure, this story of the Arno spilling into and across a great city, into the rooms of great museums, into the basements of churches, into homes and shops is pressingly relevant. This story of those Mud Angels who brought their wings to the resurrection of that place still matters.

We depend on one another to see each other through. To dig down into the muck and salvage beauty.

My praise, then, to the American Bookbinders Museum. And my thanks to Taylor, for letting me know.

Read more...

a conversation, and a medley reading of my books, with Carla Spataro

Yesterday, as part of this week-long teaching at the Rosemont College Writers & Readers Retreat, Carla Spataro asked me questions about themes (and food) and then invited me to read. I chose to share what I think of as postcards from my books—the opening words from stories—Small Damages, Going Over, One Thing Stolen, This Is the Story of You, Flow—that take place around the world.

The video captures some of that. I am grateful for the conversation.

Read more...

ONE THING STOLEN for just $2.99, all through April

So here we go.

You know that novel, One Thing Stolen, that I spoke about last year? The one about a young girl who travels from her home near the University of Pennsylvania campus to Florence, Italy, with her family while battling the encroachment of a terrifying disorder? The one that commemorates the 50th anniversary (happening this year) of the flooding of the Arno, a flood that threatened to destroy so much of what western civilization prizes as its most significant historic art?

One Thing Stolen is about thievery, family, friendship, first love, nests and art, fear and hope. It won the 2015 Parents' Choice Gold Medal Award, is a 2016 TAYSHAS selection, was an Amazon Editor's Pick, and was named a Best Book of the Year by Cleaver Magazine and Savvy Verse and Wit.

More about One Thing Stolen can be found here. 

And now, throughout the entire month of April, an e-version can be yours for just $2.99.

Chronicle Books has made this happen. (Thank you, Daria Harper.) We're hoping you'll take a look—and help us spread the word.

The book can be purchased at the following sites for $2.99, starting tomorrow.

Kindle 

Apple iBookstore

Nook

Google Play

Kobo

Bookshout

 

Read more...

Home as Heart, and Hearth: Join my students and my writing friends for the Beltran evening, at Penn

I talk about my beloved Penn students. I boast about them, often. And sometimes I have the honor of introducing their work to to the world.

That's going to happen next week, March 1, 6 PM, at the Kelly Writers House, on the University of Pennsylvania campus, when we convene for the Beltran Family Teaching Award program. The event is free and open to the public, and we hope you'll join us.

The official blurb is below.

(Those of you who may be wondering about the provenance of the cover photo for the chapbook we've produced: that is a garden in Florence where my Nadia (of One Thing Stolen) slipped away to feel at peace.)

Join us for HOME AS HEART, AND HEARTH: STORIES AND IDEAS, a discussion on what exactly makes a home—how it’s built, how it’s found, and how it’s sustained. This year’s Beltran Teaching Award winner BETH KEPHART will lead a conversation featuring beloved Young Adult novelist A.S. KING, New York Times contributing writer and Young Adult novelist MARGO RABB, and National Book Circle Critics Finalist RAHNA REIKO RIZZUTO. Following the event, “home”-inspired work made by guests and Penn students will be bound together in a commemorative volume.

Read more...

THIS IS THE STORY OF YOU: The Goodreads Giveaway, and signings

Friends, This Is the Story of You, my Jersey shore storm mystery, is (I have heard it said) printed and on its way to me. Story has received two stars in these early days (Kirkus and School Library Journal) and kind words from BookPage and Publishers Weekly. It is a Junior Library Guild selection and will be featured in an upcoming story on environmentally aware novels for younger readers in The Writer Magazine.

The launch date (early April) grows near.

In celebration of it all, Chronicle Books is sponsoring a Goodreads Giveaway, starting tomorrow.

Information is right there (I turn to glance toward the left side of my blog, where I hope you now glance as well), should you wish to enter. Twenty-five will win.

In the meantime, a big box of One Thing Stolen paperbacks has arrived. One Thing Stolen, which won a Parents' Choice Gold Medal and is a TAYSHAs selection, among other things, will launch alongside of Story.

I'll be signing early copies of Story at Books of Wonder, during the New York City Teen Authors Festival, on Sunday, March 20.

I will be signing Story and Stolen (and possibly even Love: A Philadelphia Affair) at Main Point Books, in honor of Independent Bookstore Day, at 2 PM.

I'd love to see you.

Read more...

to the new good, for all of us

Last night I saw a movie ("The Danish Girl") I have long wanted to see, and it was gloriously visual and terribly heartbreaking and genius acting, and it was good. Afterward, my brother called and we talked for a long time (I talked to his daughter, too) and all of that was good.

In the dark hours before this dawn, I began to read the memoir The Hare with Amber Eyes, and it is good. I set the Hare aside to sketch out the outline for a new and interesting (to me) nonfiction book, and I think it will be good.

After the sun rose I added fresh mint to the strawberries, the banana, and the coconut water, spun the Ninja, and that breakfast smoothie was good. I went online and found a very generous LOVE citation on Savvy Verse and Wit Best of the Year round-up (thank you!) AND ALSO an uber kind citation for ONE THING STOLEN, and that was good and very good.

Today we will see dear friends in a new place, and it will be (it always is with them) good.

This is the last day of an old year. The sun (which hasn't made much of an appearance lately) has decided to show up, and I'm hoping that augurs something new, something good, for all of us. I'm hoping that the unsettling headlines dim, that our planet is respected, that terror is abated, that homes are found for those seeking homes. I'm hoping that more people do happy things. I'm hoping the people I love get good news, have good health, have good dreams come true.

I'm hoping that for strangers, too.

To the new good, for all of us.

Read more...

TAYSHAS and Cleaver: a kind One Thing Stolen combination

I don't take one darned thing for granted.

Every book is hard, and every bit of luck really is sheer luck, and goodness comes at you from unforeseen places, or a friend steps in, or something.

So I'm saying thank you today to the unforseen:

To Cleaver Magazine and Melissa Sarno, for naming One Thing Stolen to its Best of 2015: YA Staff Picks. To the Texas Library Association for slipping the book onto its 2016 TAYSHAS Reading List (among so many other powerful novels and nonfiction selections).

One Thing Stolen really was a book I hoped into being—hoped and fervently re-visioned. Then stood back and hoped some more. To all of those who read the book, encouraged the book, were there for the book, thank you. You might now know how much that matters, but it matters. Much. And so, again, I thank you Cleaver, Melissa Sarno, and the Texas Library Association.

Read more...

"My students and their fictitious doubles," in the Penn Gazette (One Thing Stolen)

Thank you, Trey Popp, for sharing this story about my students and the characters they inspire in the new as-ever-gorgeous edition of the Pennsylvania Gazette.

The focus of this particular essay is One Thing Stolen, a novel Chronicle Books released this past April. One Thing Stolen  takes place partly on the Penn campus and partly in Florence, Italy. Its  primary characters—Maggie Ercolani and Katie Goldrath—were named for students I loved (and love).

Meanwhile, in a forthcoming novel, This Is the Story of You, my Mira Banul, the star of that story, carries the last name of my student Sean Banul. Mira must be especially strong as a monster storm devastates her world. She has a cat that waves. Sean gave me both strength and a waving cat. He gave me willing use of his last name.

Some people wonder why I write so many books. The answer: Because so many people and places inspire me. Indeed, my most recent students are already transforming the landscape of my imagination.

An excerpt from the Gazette story is below. The entire piece can be read here.

To be a Penn student is a privilege, absolutely, but privilege isn’t necessarily or even primarily the natural domain of the young people I meet. They are emergent, they are bright, they are headed toward something, but few among them have had it easy. The students who gather around the table in that Victorian twin have lost siblings, parents, teachers, best friends, faith in the bedrock, parts of themselves. They have been diagnosed, they have been uprooted, they have stood in danger’s way, they have endured violence and prejudice. They are, at times, the first members of their family to matriculate in college. English is not always their first language. Home is a word they are still defining. I say that I teach at Penn, but that is a preposterous shorthand. I show up, and I’m profoundly educated.

I am inspired.

Read more...

Video from Bank Street—a reading of One Thing Stolen, a conversation with interesting writers

Was so very happy to be there, among the Bank Street writers and thinkers. This is our panel—Vicky Smith, Tim Wynne-Jones, and Daniel Jose Older (and me).

We read a few pages from each of our books in the early part of this video—Daniel reads Shadowshaper, I read from One Thing Stolen, Tim reads from The Emperor of Any Place. And then we answer the truly thoughtful, provocative questions provided to us/for us by Vicky Smith of Kirkus Reviews.

A treasured day.

Read more...

the One Thing Stolen surprise at Radnor Memorial Library

Some things aren't surprising when I am hosted by the Radnor Memorial Library. How gracious Pamela Sedor forever is. How delicious (and pretty) is that cake. How kind my friends, husband, and father are. I hope my gratitude is felt and known. I am fully aware of how precious time is, and what it means when time is set aside to support another's floating dreams.

But last night, after photographs and stories of this regional home were shared, after I read from One Thing Stolen, after I shared the opening pages of This Is the Story of You (and gave a copy to Lucky Number 9)—after all that, when I was signing books, I turned over a copy of One Thing Stolen and saw a new cover staring out at me. The formerly black title had turned red (and glossy). There were A.S. King words over my name. The back cover was different, too.

What had happened here?

A little detective work with Annie and Pam as the night wound down, and I learned this: One Thing Stolen has gone into a second printing and Chronicle Books has taken the time to dress the book up newly—new color, Amy's words. It's like those wondrous moments when I come in from a very long day and discover folded laundry on the kitchen table, the work of a secret elf. This thing had been done, quietly done, and there was my gratitude again.

So many, many thanks to Pam and Annie of Radnor, to my friends who came, to the ladies of the Wayne Art Center (oh we, the Hidden Gems), to Kelly, Cyndi, Marie, Tom, Hilary, Bill, another Bill, and Dad, and to Temple University Press, which gave me Love: A Philadelphia Affair and Chronicle Books, which gave me a second printing of One Thing Stolen as well as the gorgeous cover and packaging (and Taylor, thank you for caring so much, you read it again and then again with dedication; you kept asking; you kept pressing; I am grateful; we've made it all right at last) of This Is the Story of You.

Read more...

Talking about our home, at Radnor Memorial Library

The extremely dear Pamela Sedor has invited me back to the Radnor Memorial Library to talk about my 2015 books, LOVE: A PHILADELPHIA AFFAIR and ONE THING STOLEN. Pam is lovely, that space is kind, and there will be cake.

I'll be reflecting on places familiar to many of you—Darby-Paoli Road, the Devon Horse Show, the Wayne Art Center, DanceSport Academy in Ardmore, the gardens of Chanticleer, the bells of Valley Forge. I'll be listening for your own stories. And I'll be showcasing some 139 photographs of this area, Philadelphia, and beyond.

I hope that you can join us.


Tuesday, October 20
7:30 PM
Radnor Memorial Library, Winsor Room
Wayne, PA

Read more...

on invoking and developing characters, at Arcadia's Creative Writing Summer Session

Yesterday, thanks to the generous invitation of Gretchen Haertsch, I spent time with the talented writers of Arcadia University's Creative Writing Summer Weekend in the sensational "castle" illustrated above. I taught a master class. I then reflected on the empathetic imagination as I read from my four Tamra Tuller novels—Small Damages, Going Over, One Thing Stolen, and the upcoming This Is the Story of You.

(Thank you, my friends, for coming to see me. Thank you, Soup and Aimee, for the fireside chat.)

In the master class I was focused on the osmotic process I alluded to here. We undertook linked exercises designed to help the writers diagnose their strengths and fears and to help them locate new wellsprings of ideas and possibilities. One element in the lesson plan involved character development. I presented the writers with a number of character-invoking questions. I invited them to add to the question list. We next considered which three or four questions sparked the respective imaginations of each writer. Characters and creatures emerged.

I was asked if I might share the list of provoking questions and so I do, below. Perhaps a handful will inspire you.

Character Invokers

How does it interact with reality?
In what kind of weather does it thrive?
What kinds of arguments does it have?
What secrets has it shared with no one?
What questions does it chase?
What is its shoe size?
How does it deal with crisis?
Where does it find peace or solace?
How does it exercise its curiosity?
How does it greet or ignore the skies?
What does it miss?
What will it stand up for?
What would it change about itself?
Who are its heroes?
Does it dance, and if it does, to what music?
What songs was it sung when it was young?
Does it seek to be rooted in or to escape?
Does it crave lonesomeness?
Does it have faith in another day?
If it were colorblind would it be heartbroken?
What is its favorite word?
Who and what does it trust?

And from the writers:

What haunts it?
What is its least favorite vegetable?
What sense would it most not like to lose?
What does it value more than its own life?
How far would it go to achieve its goal?
Who or what gives it meaning?
Where would it like to travel?
Is it experiencing an existential crisis?
Is it afraid of crowds?
What makes it hopeful?
Does it like water?
What superpower does it wish for?
Where is it from?
How was it raised?
Does it long for the past or dream of the future?
Did it sleep last night?
What is its greatest fear?
What does it fear of the future?
What is its favorite color?

Read more...

An Upcoming Medley Read at Arcadia, Free and Open to the Public

On June 27th, I'll be joining Gretchen Haertsch at Arcadia University in Glenside, PA, as part of the Creative Writing Summer Weekend. I'll be conducting a private master class for the participants. I'll also be doing a public reading—a medley that will begin with some thoughts about the empathetic imagination and then move into four brief illustrative readings from Small Damages, Going Over, One Thing Stolen, and This Is the Story of You, the book that will launch next spring from Chronicle (and that I am page proofing this very weekend).

The doors are open to all of you. The reading is free. The facts below. Would love to see you there.

June 27, 2015

3 PM

Arcadia University

Beth Kephart Medley Reading

450 South Easton Road

Glenside, PA 19038

Read more...

The Moravian Conference and One Thing Stolen News

There was this thing that happened in Moravian Bethlehem this weekend. This clutch of days, of hours spent among writers and friends in a town I quickly came to love. Joyce Hinnefeld—chair of the Moravian College English Department and creator of the Moravian Writers' Conference—you made something special happen, something rare. You dignified writing and writers by the program you assembled and the writers and editors you attracted. You—miraculously—gave me the opportunity to write and deliver a keynote about a topic that I think matters, and then to spend time with my friend A.S. King in dialogue: I will never be able to thank you. Josh Berk, for time with your beautiful family at the library you run so well, I thank you, too.

I returned to my little house that is my home to much work. The day was intercepted by utterly unexpected news. First, a review for One Thing Stolen in Horn Book Magazine, a publication I love very much, calling this book of mine a "unique, moving story." Thank you. Then, moments later, news that the book has been named a Parents' Choice Gold Award selection.

It is always hard not to be able to directly thank people who have been kind to me. Horn Book and Parents' Choice: I hope you find these words. Joyce and Josh, I send them to you. With deepest thanks.

Read more...

On leaving and returning; Going Over at a bargain price; two new reviews of One Thing Stolen

I was away and when I went away, I went away from myself as a writer—extracted myself from the pressures, the confusions, the fears. I read the work of others instead. Walked hours every day through crooked streets with a heavy camera taking photos of places, of faces, of fashion. Ate gelato at any hour. Learned the history of the Polish people, spent time in Schindler's Factory, visited (with a hushed heart) Auschwitz and Birkenau, walked the grounds of Wawel Castle, happily trekked through a dragon's den, and less happily endured the terror of an underground cave with shoulder-wide passageways. Spent beautiful, wonderful, thirtieth anniversary time with the husband who has taken to calling me (I can't imagine why), "Miss Daisy."

(The other husband just calls me "Beth.")

But I had much to do when I returned, and today I've been taking care of some of that business. There's a new afterword to write for Handling the Truth. Proof pages of Love: A Philadelphia Affair to read through. A review of a favorite author's book to write. Final preparations for this weekend's events at the Bethlehem Area Public Library and the Moravian Writers' Conference. (Join us for the keynote. We would love to see you.) When you go away and then return everything is seen from a new angle. I am aware always, and especially now, of how hard getting writing right is, and how much more I have yet to learn.

While away, I heard from dear Taylor Norman at Chronicle Books that the e-book version of Going Over—as well as ten other Chronicle books—can now be purchased for $1.99 during the next two weeks. The link to that fabulous opportunity is here.

I also learned about two kind reviews of One Thing Stolen—the first by my dear friend Florinda, who reads with such extreme care and who writes with such authority. Thank you, Florinda, for these original, knowing, thoughtful, generous words. You have been such a faithful, important reader of my books. You have understood my purpose.

The second review, posted on the Once Upon a Bookcase blog, is here. I cherish this review because it is written by a reader who wasn't quite sure, when she heard that Nadia was a thief, that this book would be for her. She gave it a chance anyway. And I am grateful.

Read more...

we had ourselves a moment

We were the body, heart, soul, and mind—and we were together last evening at Children's Book World in Haverford, PA. (IW Gregorio, Margo Rabb, Tiffany Schmidt, Moi)

For me, it was so very personal. Time alone with the great A.S. King, who is essential in my life in ways that go far beyond the page. The stunning surprise that My Spectacular David (a last-semester student whose own mind-expanding work you will all no doubt be reading soon) pulled off—taking a long drive from his home to join the celebration. The chance to chill with the force that is Heather Hebert, whose store is, in a word, a mecca. Sister Kim and her girls, one of whom, Kathleen, is bound for glory, as you can see. Anmiryam, Anne, Jenn. Friends, familiar faces, new friends. Fishbowl questions that were, well, as you can see from the photo above, challenging. Margo Rabb—famous writer, provocateur, New York Times-er, and Salon-er, esteemed member of the literari—I now know to avoid the ink color green when questions are being passed down the line.

I was glad to have this chance to read three pages from One Thing Stolen. To give my character Maggie, who was named for a fabulous former Penn student, a moment to speak out loud. Books are one thing on the page. They are something else raised from the page. I heard my Maggie as I read those words.

Time to return to a book in progress. I'm going to go quiet for a few days as I put my thinking cap on.

Read more...

I cried real tears when I read these words (about One Thing Stolen)

I can't tell you how much I love this book, how in awe I sat of this story, an elaborate nest of its own. I'd copy every beautiful sentence from this novel and leave it here for you, but that is the gift of Kephart's book, sitting with its soft feathered pages. This book is not a tangle. It is an incredible, careful, deliberate weave. Ribbons and strands of story coming together to create something exquisite and beautiful. Like Nadia's very first steal, which involves taking apart the words and language she is losing her grip on and braiding it back together in pieces, this book is a similar, spectacular creation.

From This Too (the full review is here).

To have been understood. So thoroughly. Like this. To be taken into Melissa's own life, heart, mind, travels.

Thank you, Melissa Sarno.

Read more...

Ana Maia draws Nadia; A.S. King sends on the gift; I love Chef's Table

Yesterday was a wall-to-wall-er. You know how it is. I topped off the day by watching two segments of the Netflix documentary series, Chef's Table, a David Gelb production that can turn any too-long day around.

Chef's Table doesn't just focus on the famous chefs and what they make and how they live. It goes deep into questions about how early failures shape lives. It explores the consequences of the decisions we make. And oh my goodness, does it showcase the artistry of fine minds in kitchens and over flames.

Massimo Bottura. Francis Mallmann. Niki Nakayama. Ben Shewry. Magnus Nilsson. I'm telling you. Step inside their worlds.

I was saying goodnight to the day when I noticed an email from A.S. King. I pattered my fingers. I squinted. I read. To her note was attached this drawing above, from a Brazilian reader named Ana Maia, who had read One Thing Stolen and rendered my Nadia like this.

There is so much to this—so much extreme and gentle thoughtfulness. I am deeply touched.

Ana Maia does this—draws the characters she finds in pages. You can follow her here on twitter: @coloredpins <https://twitter.com/coloredpins

Read more...

This is my more: on the purpose writing serves, and last day with the Spectaculars

Yesterday Kelly and I walked Longwood Gardens where the tulips were like new crayons in tight boxes and the rose grapes hung from ceilings as if waiting to be pressed toward wine and the trees were actually flowers and the treehouse mirror turned us into a 17th century painting with 21st century iPhones. It was spring, crisp, crowded.

The hours served as punctuation. A period, perhaps a colon marking the end of a long winter of talks and workshops, essays and reviews, teaching and papers, intense client work and client revisions, the quiet launch of a novel and the heart-ish completion of a collection of essays. Tomorrow is my last class with the Spectaculars at Penn. We have worked hard together, grown together, hurt together, soared together, and on this day I sit reading their final work—the profiles they have written about people who matter to them. I believe that writing can serve no greater purpose than to awaken the writer to the world itself—the things that matter—and to, in that way, force love (or call it attention) onto the page. I believe that teaching craft is teaching soul. I believe in the quiet things that happen in the margins. I believe.

It's the kind of belief that won't make a person famous. The kind that simmers just off to the left, that urges with wet eyes, that suggests and does not demand, that says, Maybe. The kind that is noticed by a few but rarely by many. Am I, I am asked often and ever more frequently, okay with that? Don't I, after all these quiet books, all these quiet years, all these words living in the shadows, want more?

There are crayon tulips. There are decorated trees. There are steps leading up to the sky. There are moments. There are students. There are friends; there is family. There is a husband and a son. There are books on my shelves written by authors with far greater talent, wisdom, seeing, stretch—and I see that talent, I am grateful for that talent, I am instructed by it, happy for it, elevated and poem-ed by it.

This is my more. This is my life.

Read more...