For introducing me to students who change my life and for sharing my books in your store in such a gorgeous, prominent way, thank you, University of Pennsylvania and the Penn Bookstore. For snapping this photograph and sending it my way, thank you, Gary Kramer.
There are just two more LOVE signings on the radar. You are, of course, invited:
December 10, 2015, 12 - 2PM
Barnes and Noble LOVE signing
Rittenhouse Square
Philadelphia, PA
December 12, 2015, 2 PM
In-store signing
LOVE, etc.
Big Blue Marble Bookstore
551 Carpenter Lane
Philadelphia, PA
What a pleasant thing it was to travel to the city, to meet my friend and Temple Press publicist Gary Kramer for an extended stroll through favorite places, and to be introduced to Dan Marcel, a talented videographer, photographer, and film maker, who created two separate videos.
First is my interview with Gary, about the making of Love: A Philadelphia Affair
The second provides a partial city tour—particularly Locust Walk, 30th Street Station, and Schuylkill Banks—as well as brief readings from the book.
Love, which has been kindly endorsed by some of Philadelphia's great leaders, will launch in early September. On October 7, at 7:30, I'll be celebrating its release on the Free Library of Philadelphia stage with Marciarose Shestak. Please consider joining us there.
Dan Marcel is a marvel—well-named, I've said. You can find out more about his Marcelevision Media here; I highly recommend him. Please listen, too, to the original song, "Trailing Whispers," written and performed for the second production by Dan's mother, Susan.
Gary Kramer (who is not just Temple's publicist but a powerhouse film critic, a Salon.com writer, a Bryn Mawr Film Institute lecturer, among other things):. You made this happen and I could talk to you forever. Thank you.
A year from now, Temple University Press will release
Love: A Philadelphia Affair, a collection of thirty-six essays on the intersection of memory and place. Thirty-eight of my black-and-white photographs will accompany the text.
Some twenty of those essays first appeared in the
Philadelphia Inquirer—pieces I was lucky enough to write for
Inquirer editors Avery Rome and Kevin Ferris.
Others have been written over the past few months for the book itself, taking me into and around the city on days of rain and sun to consider the streets, the architecture, the gardens, the sidewalks, the highs, the lows, and the communities that have played such a powerful role in the ways that I see, the books that I write, and the stories I teach.
Flow: The Life and Times of Philadelphia's Schuylkill River, Dangerous Neighbors (1876 Philadelphia)
, Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent (1871 Philadelphia),
Small Damages, Handling the Truth, and even
One Thing Stolen all reflect, in different ways, my love for this region and the people I have met here.
My great thanks to Micah Kleit, Ann Marie Anderson, and Gary Kramer at Temple University Press for helping me to see this dream through. My deep gratitude to Kevin Ferris and Avery Rome, who made my writing about this region such a pleasure. And huge appreciation to my agent Amy Rennert, who saw the details of this project through.
Micah and I wrapped the book up yesterday, from an editorial and photography perspective. I can't wait to hold this book in my hands, to be able to tell the world again and in new ways why I love where I live.
Gary Kramer, beloved publicist for my river book
Flow: The Life and Times of Philadelphia's Schuylkill River (Temple University Press) as well as the forthcoming
Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent, just sent word that
Library Journal kindly featured
Handling the Truth in its
Nonfiction Previews for August 2013.I am so happy to have this book of mine be placed among other true memoirs. I'm so grateful to Barbara Hoffert, who wrote:
Not a memoir proper, this book fits nicely with the others on this list because it’s about writing memoir. Kephart has penned five.... She’s also mastered the fiction and essay forms and currently teaches memoir writing at the University of Pennsylvania, so she’s got the skills to explain every facet of the writing process, including that crucial issue for memoirists: where does imaginative shaping stop and disregard for truth begin.
For more thoughts on memoirs, memoir making, and prompt exercises, please visit my dedicated Handling the Truth page.
Many years ago I wrote an odd book called
Flow: The Life and Times of Philadelphia's Schuylkill River. Flow had grown out of my love for my city, was supported (in all its strangeness) by a
Pew Fellowships in the Arts grant, and was published by the best possible house for a book such as that one:
Temple University Press. Micah Kleit, my editor, gave the book room, while Gary Kramer, a savvy and delightful publicist with deep Philly roots, gave it wings. Not so run-of-the-mill in tone, structure, and voice, but always Philly true,
Flow sits today—slender and alive—on my shelves, thanks to Micah's picking up the phone when I called.
From
Flow grew
Dangerous Neighbors (Laura Geringer Books/Egmont USA), my 1876 Centennial novel. Katherine, a bereaving twin, stands at the heart of that story, but just one step to her left is a character named William, a young man from the poor side of town who rescues lost animals for a living. William was a character who never left my thoughts. He lived with me long after
Dangerous Neighbors ended.
Soon I was conjuring William as a young adolescent living among the machines of Baldwin Locomotive Works in 1871 Philadelphia. His brother has been murdered by a cop (the murder based on a real Philadelphia event), his father is in Eastern State Penitentiary, and it is up to William to protect his heart-and-soul-sickened mom. William gets some help in this from his best friend, Career, who has a job with the newspaper man, George Childs. He gets help, too, from a prostitute named Pearl, and from the little girl next door. He thinks he's getting help from the variety of medicines (that sarsaparilla resolvent among them) that were being pedaled at the time. And those ginger-haired twin girls from
Dangerous Neighbors? They're in and out of his poor neighborhood, thanks to their feminist mother.
After I'd finished writing this novel, I sat and thought for a time about publishing options. I wanted a true Philadelphia home for this book. I wanted an opportunity to work with a house that might connect this story to Philadelphia school children, museum goers, history buffs. It wasn't long before I was writing a note to Micah at Temple University Press, who thought the story sounded interesting and encouraged me to send it on to his colleague, Stephen Parks. Steve is a Syracuse University professor who also runs
New City Community Press. NCCP began as a literacy project in the public schools of Philadelphia, won a major national grant in support of its ethos, and remains today committed to telling community stories. I liked the sound of all that, and so, last February, I met Steve in Chestnut Hill and we talked. There's been no question (in my mind) about this book's future ever since.
Today I can officially announce that
Dr. Radway's Sarsparilla Resolvent will be released next March from New City Community Press and distributed by my friends at Temple University Press. It will be illustrated by my husband, William Sulit, who also designed the book's cover, revealed for the first time here; for a glimpse of interior art, go
here and for more of Bill's a
Yesterday, thanks to the kindness of Gary Kramer, I was included in WissLit, a Wissahickon High School television program dedicated to the literary arts. Every single time I step into a school I think how lucky I am that my life has led me to a place where, every now and then, I can look over the shoulders of others toward the future.
Wissahickon High School is very large and very beautiful. I needed an escort to get out. A young man was called, and soon he appeared—in lime green leotards, bright red shoes, a Thing One wig (in black), gangly neck wear, and other necessary apparel. I tried to be polite. He tendered an explanation. "It's Fashion Disaster Day," he said. "I try to show a little school spirit." Then he offered to carry my bag and proceeded to hold open every door and walked me straight up to the front office, even though (at one point in our mile-long sojourn) I could find that for myself.
Manners, these days.
Thank you for the hospitality, Wissahickon High (and Jessi and the crew of WissLit).
Yay!
Wonderful!