How to Steal a Car Video

Here's a video of some guy who looks a lot like me reading from How to Steal a Car.

What was I thinking? And why is the right side of the screen cut off? If anyone knows, please tell me. In the meantime, you can go to YouTube and watch it in all its full screen glory.

Unrepentant

I've just received the first pre-publication review of How to Steal a Car, this one from Kirkus:

"Hautman channels the cynically smart voice of a teenage sometime car thief in this sly cross between Blake Nelson’s The New Rules of High School (2003) and Peter Cameron’s Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You (2007). Fifteen-year-old Kelleigh is bored. Her staid parents politely leave her alone, her two best friends talk about the same old things and she’s stuck with Moby-Dick for her summer-reading selection. So she begins stealing cars, quickly escalating from joy riding in her elderly neighbors’ Caddy to plotting the theft of a stranger’s Mercedes. Teens will identify with Kelleigh’s challenges to boundaries and attempts to see how many rules she can break before anyone in authority can be bothered to notice. Kelleigh soon decides that while “I stole a couple cars…It’s not who I am.” However, the illegal thrill causes her to realize she has outgrown her suburban–Twin Cities world, and an unrepentant ending behind stolen wheels suggests she is destined to leave it behind. A sharply observed, subversive coming-of-age tale."

Nice, huh? I love "unrepentant" and "subversive." That's what I want for the paperback jacket blurb.

Several appearances are scheduled for the coming months. Check out my website for details.

Spring

Why blog when I could be in the woods enjoying the spring bounty? Check out these ramps.

And these morels.

And this tree, nearly four feet in diameter. The beavers got ambitious! Seriously, that was beavers that did that.

Another One Bites the Dust

J.G. Ballard, one of my early and most profound influences, has died in London at the age of 78. I read most of his books. His first novel, and still one of my favorites, is The Drowned World.

Instruction Manual

I finally got the cover art for How to Steal a Car. I like it! Little toy cars. The publication date is set for September, so be sure to get your LoJack installed before then.

Voles

As he enters his late middle age, our toy poodle Jacques fancies himself a mighty hunter.

This past winter, Jacques spent many hours in the backyard plowing through eight-inch snow with his four-inch legs, listening to things we could not hear, pouncing on things we could not see, coming up with nothing but a face full of

snow. But a few weeks ago one his pounces netted him a small, dark gray creature with a short tail. Crunch.

At first I thought it was a short-tailed shrew, but upon closer examination it turned out to be a vole, which looks like a field mouse, but slightly larger, with shorter snout and a furry tail.

Jacques has since refined his stalk/listen/pounce routine, and he has caught at least one more that I know of which probably means he has caught

several I never saw. Apparently, we have a lot of voles here. That's fine with me, as long as they stay outside.

We are having a nice, gentle thaw here, with each day stripping away another layer of snow. I went out this morning and noticed the the melt had revealed the vole highways all over our property. The patterns are quite beautiful, don't you think? It looks to me like a language. The language of the voles.

I am looking at...

...a very nice blue-and-white handmade bowl I received from Granville Middle School, along with what I believe to be an OSU card protector. 

I mean, if it's not a card protector I don't know what it is. Those are just two mementos of my recent trip to Granville, Ohio, home of my new BFF Dana Gilligan, who can make a foam hot dog costume look very stylish.  I am not kidding.

The students at GMS were great--they had a lot of questions, most of which I did my best to answer. Unfortunately, the most common questions had to do with the ending of Invisible, and I couldn't answer them because about half the students had not yet read the book! As you can see from the second picture, the students and faculty put in a lot of work in anticipation of my visit. Jana Von Dach, a professional poker player masquerading as school librarian, brought in her own poker paraphernalia to make me feel comfortable on stage. It felt just like home, Jana. Thanks!

Godless Brouhaha

"After numerous parent complaints, administrators at Oxford High School are asking teachers to consider removing the book Godless by Pete Hautman from their summer reading lists."

That's a quote from a February 3 article in the Oxford Eagle, an Oxford, Mississippi newspaper. Here's a link to the article. 

This is the first time, to my knowledge, that Godless has been challenged in a public (or any other) school.  I wrote a respectful and polite letter to the principal of the school early last week, but I have received no response from him.

What I find sad and disturbing about this sort of thing is the message it sends to teachers, parents, and students.  When a school administration kowtows to small group of parents (I'm guessing it is only two or three), they are telling the teachers that they do not trust their judgement, and that a few strident voices can control what books are appropriate to assign to their students.  The parents of all the other students, who rely upon the school administration to moderate those fringe voices, get the message that a few extremists are calling the shots in their child's education.  The students get the same message, with the added embarrassment of being "protected" from a book that hundreds of thousands of middle school students have read.

The other thing that bothers me is this: I strongly suspect that the parents who objected to Godless have not read the book.  Because if they had read it, I do not think they would find it objectionable.  We see this over and over again in cases of book banning.  One activist finds reason to object to a book and they inflame a bunch of other parents who read, at most, a few selected, out-of-context passages.  

Oxford High School, I should mention is a large, progressive public school with no history of book banning that I can find.  I hope that this problem with Godless is an isolated incident, and that it does not spread to other books in the school district.

This is one of those posts where I have nothing to say...

...but feel the need to say something because it has been one month since my last post. This may indicate that my life has been largely uneventful otherwise unworthy of celebration, or it may mean that I have been deliriously happy, or occupied with projects so fascinating that I’ve been unable to tear myself away. All of the above are somewhat true. I’m getting a lot of writing done. No funerals or weddings or births in the past month. No salmonella or septicemia or bubonic plague. The dogs have been obsessed with moving from one sunny spot to another. No travel. No flat tires or furnace failures during our subzero January. No emergency room visits. No meteorites crashing through the house. I’m midway through a Lost marathon, watching seasons two through four on hulu.com (four or five episodes a day) and enjoying it tremendously. Life is good. I even got a laugh out of the latest one star review of my novel Sweetblood on Amazon.com. Here is the review in its entirety:

Now that is an effective review.  You know exactly where the reviewer is coming from and what she thinks about the book, all in 25 words.  If only I could express myself so succinctly.

Things I promise not to say in 2009

Jaw-dropping

It was clever once, but that was many, many years in the past. I confess to having used this term. Recently. In print. Possibly more than once. Now, it is lazy, cliché, and ineffective. I am giving myself a dope slap…right…now! Ouch. It hurts so good. Laugh-out-loud funny See comments under “jaw-dropping,” above. Yeah-yeah-yeah (or, yah-yah-yah) You’ve heard this one, and probably used it yourself. It can mean “I agree with you,” or “Now I remember!” or “I know, I know!” It bugs the s%@! out of me, especially when I hear it sputtering from my own lips. Nevermore, I swear.  Got Okay, “got” is an extraordinarily useful and omnipresent word. It’s not going away anytime soon, and I will doubtless use it myself both in conversation and in writing. But I will use it less often. Tween A young woman of, perhaps, eleven years once called me to account for using this word to describe the readers for whom Mary Logue and I intended the Bloodwater Mysteries series. She perceived it as derogatory; I cannot blame her. Anyway, she scared me off using the word ever again in any context whatsoever. I am now without a word to describe persons aged eleven and twelve, or thereabouts, who have realized their full intelligence, but lack the knowledge that comes with adulthood, and the insanity that comes with teenagerness.* Then See comments under “got,” above. *Yet another word I promise not to use—ever again.

New Website

For the past five days, while attempting to master Dreamweaver CS4 (Adobe's web design program), I have been employing every profane, obscene, vulgar expression I know--which is a lot of expressions.  The dogs slink past my door giving me these mournful, accusatory looks. Mary has been keeping her office door closed.  The cursing and stomping and shrieking amused her at first, but after a few hours she'd had enough.  Can't say I blame her.

CS4 is way too fussy and complex for my impatient self.  I may as well have used a John Deere combine to mow my lawn.  

Anyway, it's over.  I just uploaded my new website to Earthlink's server.  It's sort of simple and crude, and I'm sure there are lots of bad links and pages that won't load and so forth.  If you find a problem, please let me know and I'll try to fix it.

Scarsdale, and the National Book Awards

I met another Super Librarian, this time in New York, at Scarsdale Middle School. Liz Waltzman (check out her website) is one of those people who gets more done before lunch than I get done in a week. Make that two weeks. Oh, and she does this while suffering from a cold and wearing Uggs. Uggs are HUGE in Scarsdale. I asked one auditorium group how many of them owned a pair of Uggs, and about 60% of the hands went up. I didn’t spend quite as much time with non-Uggs-wearing Scarsdale Super Librarian #2, Sharon Waskow, but she managed to explain the terrifying New York City Subway system so well that I rode the trains all over Manhattan without once ending up in Flatbush or Brighton Beach. Thanks, Sharon! I also met three or four hundred Super Eighth Graders over a two day period, and I am KICKING myself because I did not take my camera out, not even once. So I have no visual evidence that I was actually there. But it was a great visit. I had never before had the chance to do two days running with the same group of students. For once, I almost had time to talk about all the things I wanted to talk about, and the students had time to ask their questions both in an auditorium format, and in smaller workshop-size groups. Their questions were really good. Nobody asked me how much money I make, if I’m friends with Stephanie Meyer, or whether I prefer boxers or briefs. Wednesday, after a full day of workshops in Scarsdale, I went down to Manhattan and put on my tuxedo (a forty-five minute project due to suspender and cufflink problems) to attend the National Book Awards Banquet at Cipriani on Wall Street (go here for lots of pictures). It was a fabulous event, even better than last year. The room was stunning, the people watching was bookalicious, and the food was remarkably good for a banquet of that size (I think there were about 700 people there). I’m going to drop some names now, so if you find such things irritating it’s time to tune out. And yes, I know I’m a lousy photographer. Here is Laurie Halse Anderson with her editor Kevin Lewis, at the pre-ceremony reception. Laurie’s book Chains was a finalist in the Young People’s Literature category. This was Laurie’s second appearance at the NBA. Judy Blundell, whose book What I Saw and How I Lied, was the winner, is standing here with her editor (and mine!), David Levithan. Congratulations, Judy! (BTW, David was not drunk, I must have caught him in mid-blink.) The winner in the YPL category was announced by Daniel Handler, aka Lemony Snicket, a very funny guy who, apparently, loves to be on stage, as he spent a long seven minutes entertaining the crowd while the five finalists suffered through an eternity of churning stomachs and heart palpitations while waiting for the verdict. Other celebrity sightings include Peter Matthiessen, whose novel Shadow Country won for best novel... ...and Jonathan Franzen, who won best novel for The Corrections back in, um, I think it was 1999. (Nope, it was 2001.)  I like this picture. It was even better before I took the red out of his eyes. And when I got home…

Star Struck

I am always hesitant to meet authors whose work I admire.  Several years ago I met (he who shall not be named), whose books I held in high regard.  He was a dick.  I was instantly deprived of the ability to enjoy his work.  So sad.

This afternoon I had the pleasure of attending a reading by Samuel R. Delany at the Walker Art Center.  Delany has been one of my literary heroes since the late 1960s, when I picked up one of his early novels (Babel 17) and fell in love with his witty and extraordinarily observant writing. His 1976 novel Triton is one of my favorite SF works of all time.  He was, and remains, a major influence on my work.

 

Delany, I am happy to report, did nothing to undermine my admiration for him.  Whew!

New York

I'm heading to New York next week for school visits in Scarsdale, then down to Wall Street for the National Book Awards banquet on Wednesday evening. I've been to the NBA banquet twice before--once as a finalist, and once as a judge. This year I'm going as a spectator, and I'm hoping for a very relaxed evening--if things go wrong, I bear no responsibility. Also, it will help reduce the per-use cost of the tuxedo I bought four years ago. This years finalists for the NBA are, as always, a fascinating group of books. You can check them out at the National Book Foundation website, along with interviews with the authors and other fun stuff. This will be my last trip for 2008, after which I plan to settle in for some serious uninterrupted writing time...except for Thanksgiving...and all those other holidays...and blizzards. My next school visit won't be until February, when I travel to Granville, Ohio. Book news: It is now official: How to Steal a Car will be published next fall. This years finalists for the NBA are, as always, a fascinating group of books. You can check them out at the National Book Foundation website, along with interviews with the authors and other fun stuff. Here's a photo of me with fellow authors Heather Bouwman, Mary Logue, and Lynne Jonell after a reading at the Loft Literary Center.

Next..

Four years ago this day I was in a terrible funk.  Today?  Not so bad.

Wadsworth Fairy Rings

Wadsworth, Ohio is a lovely little town just west of Akron, Ohio (home of The Pretenders, one of the great pop-punk bands of the 1980s). I spent one day in Wadsworth enjoying the way the chunky little Midwestern houses all seemed to be within walking distance of a wooded area or a cornfield. Bonus: I saw some spectacular fairy rings* on several of the well-groomed lawns. The Wadsworth Public Library is much nicer than you would expect in a small semi-rural community, with lots of books, computers, and a user-friendly “loft” for teen readers. I gave a loosely-formatted and wide-ranging presentation to a small but avid group of readers, and left all too soon. Wadsworth is one of those places you visit and think about living there. What's the word? Oh yeah: Bucolic. Very bucolic. Bucolicious, one might say. What I brought back with me, aside from thoughts of impulsive relocation, was leads on some great music from librarian Sean Rapaki, a connoisseur of obscure bands from the 60s and 70s, most notably one Roky Erickson of whom, I am embarrassed to admit, I had never heard. Thanks, Sean! *Don’t know what a fairy ring is? It's a mushroom thing. Check out these two spectacular fairy ring images I pulled off the web: Yeah, I know. I'm a fungus nerd. But fairy rings are really cool, and once you spot one, you'll see them all over the place.

Duck, duck, duck, duck…gray duck!

I’m just guessing, but I’ll bet they don’t play that game in school anymore. Too competitive. Too many hurt feelings. Too unfair to slower, smaller, less aggressive children. Too bad. It was fun. But today’s post is not about childhood games. It’s about DUCK STAMPS. Every year, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service holds a competition for the new Federal Duck Stamp design. Hundreds of wildlife artists enter this competition, and the winning design is featured on the next year’s duck stamp. The first place winner then sells limited edition prints of his or her design, selling thousands of prints, and thereby profiting from their victory. Second place gets a set of steak knives.* The contest attracts the best of the best in wildlife art. This year, the judging took place in Minnesota. Mary and I attended the event, along with dozens of friends and relatives. Why? Because my brothers Bob and Jim were finalists. (My other wildlife artist brother, Joe, was not eligible, because he won the contest last year.) The results were not all we hoped for. Bob’s entry made it into the top ten. Jim won the set of steak knives.*Josh Spies was the winner. Congratulations, Josh! *If you don't get the steak knife reference, go rent the movie "Glengarry Glenross" and see Alec Baldwin in one of his most memorable roles.  Jack Lemmon, too! You can view all the entries here. For more information about the Duck Stamp, go here.

Magnificent Midland

I don't know if it's always beautiful, but in mid-October with the leaves are at their spectacular best, Midland, Michigan is a treat for the eyes. The people are nice, too. I just spent two days there, visiting six schools to talk about--ta-da!--myself. My books, actually. And I learned all over again that schools and teachers and students are the same everywhere, while, at the same time, they are completely different. I don't know why that continues to surprise me, but it does. One thing that never changes is the ten-forty-forty-ten rule. Ten percent of the students think I am great and no matter what I say or do, I'm da bomb. Forty percent think I'm probably-sorta-kinda okay, and they are willing to cut me a break since got them out of algebra class. Another forty percent think they are living in the Matrix and since nothing they see or hear is real, it doesn't matter. And the last ten percent...well, I got no freaking idea. These are what I consider "good numbers." The things that make every school visit unique are the individuals. Like the eighth grader who gave me a biology lesson on mosquito nutrition at (I think) Bullock Creek Middle School. I was playing fast and loose with entomological facts to make a point, and I got nailed for saying that "mosquitoes live on blood." They don't. But the females need blood to reproduce. Okay then. I'll watch my mouth in the future. I'm also impressed, again and again, by the librarians and teachers I meet. For example, the lovely and talented Stephanie Williams (right),who left engineering to become a librarian. Now THAT is an unusual career path. I had planned to take lots of great pictures in Midland, but of course I kept forgetting that I had my camera with me. But here's one of the book club at Windover Alternative High School. You see that kid way off to the left, like he doesn't want to be in the picture? Ask him about hemochromatosis. I dare you. I left Midland tired but psyched to get back to writing, and I came up with a new idea on the flight home, which I scrawled on the inside of the dust cover of John Green's new novel, Paper Towns, and wrote the first ten pages when I got home that night. It never stops.

Downtown Portland, Oregon...

...is not a good place to hunt mushrooms, but is an excellent place to find school librarians. I was there last week for the OASL/WMLA conference, and I found hundreds of them, of every species, from the tattooed hipster variety to the gray-hair-in-a-bun type to the exceedingly rare and elusive male librarian. But they all had some things in common, most notably a love of books, and dedication to their craft. The main speaker at the conference was Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes. He was amazing! If you ever get a chance to hear him speak, DO NOT pass it up. I say this as one who has slunk out of nearly every "keynote address" I have ever had the misfortune to be roped into. But Frank was astonishing, truly. I also got to hang out with (more name dropping ahead) John Green, author of Looking for Alaska (which is not about Sarah Palin), the incredibly prolific Todd Strasser (the only author I know who has written more books than I have), adult/YA mystery writer April Henry, Patrick Jones (who stole the idea for my next novel before I’d even thought of it), historical novelist Christine Fletcher, and a bunch of other semi-famous authors whose names elude me at the moment. And, for the first time, ate at a “Red Robin” restaurant. It wasn’t too bad for a burger joint, but if you go, bring your sunglasses. “Garish” does not even begin to describe the ambiance. So, today, to help myself recover from the high-contrast flashing commercial redness of Red Robin, I bought an original oil by Dodie Logue:

My Recent Visit to Orlando, Florida...

...was spent entirely within the walls of the mega resort hotel known as the Gaylord Palms, where the staff has been bred by crossing a phalanx of Stepford Wives with a particularly vigorous Mitt Romney clone. Chewing gum is forbidden within the confines of the resort. I am not kidding. The round-faced young man who delivered my breakfast one morning looked very much like a smiley face come to life. I wanted to take a photo of him, but he SCARED me.   It was eerie, I tell you. Nevertheless, it was a very pleasant two days with the FAMEous Florida librarians (FAME = Florida Association for Media in Education), a group of super-dedicated school librarians who were all working Really Hard to make the most of their annual conference while I frittered away most of my time hanging out with (name dropping, I know, I'm pathetic) David Lubar and Marc Aronson and Rick Riordan and Alane Ferguson and Chris Crutcher and Priscilla Cummings and several other YA fabulists. It was a good time. Here's the view from my balcony, showing a small part of the ginormegaplexicon: Next week I'm off to the OASL/WMLA conference in Portland, Oregon. I'm hoping to score some mushrooms while I'm there! Oh, as far as writing goes, I'm working hard on the biggest and most challenging project I have ever undertaken. More later.