Another Good Review For The Shade Of The Moon

It comes from Booklist Online (well, technically, it comes from my editor who took it from Booklist Online).

Booklist Online requires membership before you can read their reviews, so I won't put the entire review up here, just the nice complimentary part*:

   

  Shade of the Moon.

 

  Pfeffer, Susan Beth (author).

  Aug. 2013. 304p. Harcourt, hardcover,      $17.99 (9780547813370). Grades 7-10.
REVIEW. First published July 3, 2013 (Booklist Online)

The pampered and weak Jon is not a particularly likable character, but in some ways that intensifies the story, as the moral choices he makes become successively more complicated. Pfeffer’s well-written take on what life might be as it returns to “normal” is sometimes brutal and always depressingly real. — Ilene Cooper

 

 

Of course, I don't think of Jon as weak or even all that pampered, and I like him, but then again, he wouldn't exist without me and if I don't like him, who will (don't answer that).

 

Anyway, I'm pleased the book is "well-written," and since "brutal" and "depressingly real" are terms no one who knows me ever associates me with ("cuddly" and "absurdly optimistic" are more often bandied about), I am very pleased with this review, and hope is the second of many such.

 

 

*The rest of the review is pretty much plot synopsis. I didn't leave out a single negative word.

 

 

 

 

I Always Thought Bloodsucking Was The Publisher's Job

The other day, having nothing better to do, I googled my grandfather, Grandfather Rabbi Pfeffer. Much to my delight, I found an entry about him in Orthodox Judaism In America: A Biographical Dictionary And Sourcebook.

Now I knew Grandfather Rabbi Pfeffer was an important rabbi and Talmudic scholar. Once or twice, I've been asked if I were related to him, even though he was dead more than a decade before my birth. But what I hadn't known was that my father, the last of the Pfeffer children to be born in the old country, was actually from Bitchkov*, Transylvania.

My father always said he was born in Hungary. He never said Transylvania.

My brother scoured Wikipedia, and assured me that Transylvania at that particular point in history was in Hungary. But still. You think you know a man, and he ends up coming from Transylvania.
Not to mention that this makes me one quarter Transylvanian. I remain uncertain which quarter, but I do like my hamburgers really rare.

Now if I were into genealogy, as many of my friends and relatives are, I could have found this Transylvania stuff a long time ago. No doubt Grandfather Rabbi Pfeffer is in Who's Who In Bitchkov, or Great Transylvanians I Have Known And Loved.

But while I really understand the appeal of genealogy, I've never been particularly curious about my ancestral geography. Bitchkov, Transylvania, Winston-Salem, North Carolina, it's all the same to me. Neither of my parents ever expressed any interest in returning to their birthplaces, so they don't have much aura of mystery to me.

However, the having nothing better to do is of interest and concern to me. I've been thinking about my life a lot lately, and it's occurred to me that I'm in need of a hobby.

As it happens, I have a lot of interests. I'm always reading articles online about new dinosaurs or ancient burial grounds. But an interest isn't a hobby. An interest is when you read an article. A hobby requires actually doing something. Maybe even leaving the house to do it.

Only I can't think of any hobbies that I really want to spend time (and possibly money) on. So I decided to turn to you and ask if you know of any good hobbies. Maybe one of your suggestions will be perfect for me. Maybe it'll get me thinking about something I've never considered before.

So do me a favor, and tell me about hobbies. Your hobbies, your friends' hobbies, some bizarre hobby you read about once. I'm open to all possibilities, except for those that involve spending a lot of time with the undead!


*My father never met a pun he didn't love, but I don't know how he would have felt about being called a son of a Bitchkov, which is why I'm putting this as a footnote.

My Hair Held Up Better Than My Tire

I had a great time at the American Library Association Conference.

You expected anything else?

There were no thunderstorms in either direction on Thursday and the flight was smooth and easy and on time. I took a shuttle bus to the hotel, where my room was waiting for me. I ate the world's most expensive room service hamburger for supper and made phone calls and read and relaxed.

Friday I ate an equally expensive breakfast, then took a shuttle bus with one of the many helpful and really nice Houghton Mifflin Harcourt people. We got to my panel discussion early enough that I could say hello to the librarian son of one of my best friends.

Then I got on the panel. Here we are:



Cory Doctorow, Susan Beth Pfeffer, Marie Lu, Laurie Halse Anderson, Sarah Dressen


 

After we finished paneling, I convinced Mr. Doctorow and Ms. Lu that they were willing to have lunch with me. We scurried over to the Hyatt Hotel restaurant (nothing like eating local). Mr. Doctorow and Ms. Lu discussed working for Disney, gaming, and fighter piloting. I waited my turn, then regaled them with the story of Mrs. Fitzherbert and George IV, and the exact circumstances of Queen Victoria's conception. Oddly enough, Mr. Doctorow and Ms. Lu left almost immediately thereafter.

I then found a cab and asked the driver to take me to the Art Institute Of Chicago. He refused. It seems that having a parade with over 2 million people in attendance affects which streets can be driven on in Chicago and which cannot. So he left me about a half mile away from the Art Institute and told me to keep walking straight. The Art Institute would be on the right, and there'd be statues of two lions to let me know I'd gotten to the right place.

 

I hadn't expected the lions to be hockey players, but in Chicago that day, everyone was a hockey player or a librarian. Those were your only options.

 

The Art Institute is a phenomenal museum, which I would have enjoyed even more if my feet hadn't hurt from having to walk a half mile to get there. But the weather was beautiful and the walk was fun and I saw paperweights and miniature rooms and pictures of naked people and famous Impressionist paintings, and the Art Institute is the kind of museum where you can't possibly see everything and everything you do see is well worth the seeing.

 

Saturday was my big autographing day. First I went to the conference and walked around looking for free stuff. I mostly limited my free stuff to carrying bags to put the free stuff which I didn't take in. I don't know why I was so carrying bag obsessed, but I brought home about a half dozen of them, none of which I've put away, since I don't exactly know where to put them.

 

But then came the autographing, which is one of my all time favorite things to do, and which was even more fun than ever before because I got to meet Ing and Nora Durbin and Mr. Cavin. Ing had already begun reading The Shade Of The Moon, so I tested her on where she was in the book, while Mr. Cavin put his hands over his ears so he wouldn't hear any spoilers.

 

You have no idea how exciting it was for me to meet people who read my blog. You guys are legends to me, and it turns out  at least three of you are actually real.

 

I autographed for a tad longer than I was supposed to, because I'm prone to chatting with people who tell me they like my books. Also it takes a while to write Accept The Impossible and Susan Beth Pfeffer and June 29, 2013 in books.

But eventually the fabulous people of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt pushed me out of there, and I promptly got a cab that took me to the airport. My flight left a little late, but got to Newark on time, there being no thunderstorms to deal with. I carried my suitcase and all the empty bags to my car, and within fifteen minutes of arrival, got a flat tire.

 

If you ever have a choice between spending three wonderful days in Chicago, meeting authors and librarians and people who read your blog and going to a museum and eating expensive room service meals or sitting in your car at twilight on the side of a highway where everyone is whizzing past you at 70 miles per hour while you wait to be rescued, choose the former. Trust me on that.

 

But eventually I did get rescued and I drove home safely, where Scooter greeted me by telling me repeatedly how glad he was that I was there.

 

He wasn't alone. My time in Chicago was wonderful, but I was just as glad to be home as he was to see me!

 

The Fact That I Got My Hair Cut Is Not Why I'm Writing This Entry

But since I know you're fascinated by the subject, I figured I'd offer a before and after visual.

The before comes from a visit with my worldly and sophisticated friend Renee that I took last week. Our many adventures included a trip to the Washington Nationals ballpark (the Nats beat the Rockies  5-1, and it was a very good game).

Before the game began, and after many trips to many gift shops looking for just the right Teddy Roosevelt doll (which, it turns out, doesn't exist), I found a photograph of one of my father's all time favorite players, Moe Berg. So I posed in front of it.

 

Today I got my hair cut, and I requested that Cathy, the wonderful woman who has been struggling with my hair lo these many years, take a picture. She took a bunch, and it's a sad commentary on my complete lack of photographicability, that this is the best of them.

My hair looks good though, and I look like my cousin Fran, who I love, so that's all right too.

Okay. Onto the real reason for this entry. It turns out that my publisher, the currently much cherished (because they don't owe me any money) Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, is giving away 25 ARCs of The Shade Of The Moon by way of goodreads. I don't know if they have a Bolivian hat to make their selection job any easier, and they are limiting their offer to people in the United States, but it's still your best shot at getting a free ARC, since I don't have a single one to spare. As of the moment, you have 12 days and a number of hours to enter, but 12 days from now you'll only have a number of hours to enter, so you might not want to dawdle to excess.

The day after tomorrow I go to Chicago, where I will dodge thunderstorms and victory parades, and if I can squirrel away any Shade ARCs, I certainly will. But even so, you might do better to try your luck over at goodreads, since my suitcase will be filled with pads and pencils and pens and candy, and 25 ARCs is at least 20 ARCs more than I'll be willing to carry.

I am now going to email my cousin Fran that picture of me so she can see the family resemblance. Pfeffer is definitely a dominant gene!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Got Plenty O' Nuttin Much To Write About

Of course, when did that ever stop me?

Life is peaceful and quiet and surpremely uneventful, which makes for a pleasant enough time, but doesn't give me much blogable material.

You know (well, most of you don't) I have a very good friend who calls me on average once a week, and she always asks me what's new, and 9 times out of 10, I mumble and stumble and change the subject by asking what's new with her. There is always something new with her, and by the time we're through, either we've spoken long enough that we need to get off the phone, or I've remembered something that's new with me. This has been our ritual for decades, so I guess it works, but probably not here.

What I've been doing a lot of lately is reading, which is about as peaceful and quiet and supremely uneventful thing to do as I can imagine. It got to the point where having read 3 library books in 4 days, I decided I was reading too much, so I pulled back by reading Nightmare Alley by William Lindsay Gresham. I own the movie edition, which Scooter was more than willing to rest under

 

but not at all eager to pose with.

I never would have guessed that the author of Nightmare Alley was in any way connected with C. S. Lewis. Wikipedia is a wondrous thing.

After I read Nightmare Alley (which, for a short book, took a long time to read), I watched the movie. Here are three things that are different between the book and the movie:

The movie has a softer ending (well, that's not a surprise).

In the book, he's guilty of manslaughter. In the movie, it's really just an accident.

In the book, he had a mother and a father and a dog named Gyp. In the movie, he's an orphan and he grew up in an orphanage, but he still had a dog named Gyp. I find that wildly funny.

I'm currently reading Shadow of the Titanic by Andrew Wilson. I never knew that Elinor Glyn had a sister who was a Titanic survivor. I'm about halfway through, so who knows what other things I'll learn by book's end.

So now you know everything that's new with me, and you truly understand why when my friend asks me, I have nothing much to tell her!

My Upcoming Schedule At The American Library Association Conference (AKA ALA)

Upcoming is a little premature, since it's not for two weeks and a couple of days, but I figured I'd tell you everything I know now, on the assumption nothing much is going to change in the next two weeks and a couple of days.

So here's my schedule:

Tuesday June 25: Get my hair cut.

Wednesday June 26: Fret about my haircut. Possibly do an emergency shampoo even though I will have just gotten a very professional one the day before. Also debate for an absurdly long time about my choice of shoes. Print the boarding pass. Do some prepacking. Unpack everything because I'll become convinced I forgot something important. Prepack again. Check the 10 day weather forecasts to confirm no blizzards are scheduled (for some reason, there's always a blizzard when I have to flight to or from O'Hare). Discover in lieu of blizzards, massive thunderstorms and tornadoes are anticipated. Shrug philosophically and prepack and unprepack again, this time with umbrellas.

Thursday June 27: Pack frantically. Tell Scooter he won't miss me one little bit. Feel guilty because I'm lying to him. Drive to the airport. Spend many hours in the airport because my flight is delayed, thanks to massive thunderstorms and tornadoes in Nome, Alaska. Maybe a volcano there too; it hardly matters. Search desperately for anyplace that sells ice cream. Go to the ladies room two or three times (depending on volcanic activity), dragging my suitcase with me as I go. Read an entire junky novel while I wait. Eventually get on the airplane and even more eventually, arrive in Chicago. Take a cab to the hotel, where no one is awaiting me. Discover there's nothing on TV that night, but channel flip for a couple of hours anyway.

Friday June 28: Eat a huge room service breakfast, if the hotel still has room service. If it doesn't, feel disappointed that I won't be able to eat a huge room service breakfast. Instead, scurry to wherever I can eat breakfast and do same. Hope my hair looks okay, since there was no time to wash it. Get picked up at 7:30 AM in the hotel lobby (fortunately for me, that'll feel like 8:30 AM). Get escorted to:

Ten Years of YALSA’s Teens’ Top Ten

When: 

Friday, June 28, 2013 - 8:30am to 12:00pm

Location: 

McCormick Place Convention Center

S106a

 

Description: 

 

Join YALSA for a half day preconference to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Teens’ Top Ten (TTT)! The Teens' Top Ten is a "teen choice" list, where teens nominate and choose their favorite books of the previous year. Learn about the program from current TTT groups, receive tips on how to run a similar program in your library, and meet authors who have appeared on the Teens’ Top Ten list (Susan Beth Pfeffer*, Cory Doctorow, Sarah Dessen, Marie Lu, and Laurie Halse Anderson).

Meeting Type: 

Preconference/Institute

Content Area: 

Books & Authors

Interests: 

Young Adult Literature

Young Adult Services

Youth Services

Sponsors: 

YALSA (Young Adult Library Services Association)

 

 

Be certain to say hello to  Marie Lu, since we were just on a panel together at the IRA convention, where she was a good deal smarter and more articulate than me, but I, on the other hand, maneuvered it so she had to share a microphone and I had one all to myself. Then, once the program is over, if no one else wants or needs me, scurry to the Art Institute Of Chicago, which is a fabulous museum. It's been years since I was last there, but paintings don't go bad. Return to my hotel. Fret some more about my hair. Deal with the room service/ no room service issue (at least by then I'll know). Channel flip obsessively. Try to read my emails, and hope there's one from Marci telling me Scooter is doing all right (while tactfully leaving out any mention of his act of protest on the living room carpet). Finish reading another junky novel. Curse myself right before falling asleep for forgetting to print the boarding pass.

 

Saturday June 29: Eat a very big breakfast somewhere. Empty out my enormous pocketbook into my suitcase and throw all my clothes in there as well. Get my boarding pass printed. Find my way to the convention center. Walk through all the booths taking as much free stuff as my enormous pocketbook can hold. Focus in particular on pens, pencils, and notepads, ignoring the fact that I still have pens, pencils and notepads from the last ALA conference I went to four years ago. Justify taking all the free candy I can get my hands on by the fact my flight will undoubtedly be delayed for a week or two and who knows if I can get any food at O'Hare Airport. Hide all the candy and most of the pens, pencils, and notepads from the fine people at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Get to their booth well before I'm supposed to, and try to stand there inconspicuously until they're ready for me. Sign books (including ARCs of The Shade Of The Moon) from 11:30-12:30. Hope someone is there who wants me to sign their books. Make social chit chat with the fine HMH people, so they won't notice if no one wants me to sign their books. Regret having passed up that extra Reese's Peanut Butter Cup at the booth way at the other end of the convention center. Say goodbye to the fine HMH people, who will now be fully focused on the next of their autographing authors, and grab a cab to O'Hare Airport. Spend the requisite number of hours hearing rumors about volcanic activity in Hawaii holding up our flight. Finally get on the airplane. Finish reading my third (or maybe fourth) junky novel. Pick up my car, drive home, and inform a noisy and aggrieved Scooter, that I missed him considerably more than he missed me. Clean up his Saturday protest. Put away the pens, pencils, and notepads, where they can keep company with the ones from four years before. Throw the clothes out of the suitcase onto the chair in my bedroom, because I don't have the energy to hang them up. Notice that I left the umbrella somewhere in Chicago Eat all the candy, so I won't be tempted to on Sunday. Go to bed, trying not to fret about the haircut I'll get for the Decatur Book Festival Labor Day Weekend!

 

 

 

*My guess on why I'm listed first is Age Before Beauty.

The Yankees Won 6-4 Even Though They Didn't Score After The Second Inning

Todd Strasser and I went to our annual New York Yankee game on Wednesday. C.C. Sabathia pitched a complete game for the victory.

C.C. Sabathia warming up before the game

Our seats were close to the right field foul pole. I was very pleased when Ichiro Suzuki was put in right for defensive purposes.

Ichiro is bigger than this in real life

 

 

I asked Todd if I could take his picture, and he agreed, but didn't bother getting up.

When he asked to take my picture, I had no choice but to agree. You can't tell, but I'm wearing my Hudson Valley Renegades cap.

 

One of the best things about going to a baseball game is that, unlike figure skating or tennis, you can talk all the way through the game. We talked about Todd's newest book, Fallout.

I have a rule never to read books written by people I know, but I'm going to break that rule for Fallout, when it comes out on September 10.

 

Fallout should satisfy my reading needs that day!