I know many of you have been wondering about the contents of FORGE. Sadly, you'll have to wait 101 days until the 10/19 publication date to really sink your teeth into it.
But Richie Partington of Richie's Pick's has posted the first review of it, for those who want an early taste."
07 July 2010 FORGE by Laurie Halse Anderson, Atheneum, October 2010, 304p., ISBN: 978-1-4169-6144-5
"How many years can some people exist
before they're allowed to be free?"
-- Bob Dylan
"'Stop there! the boy yelled.
"The redcoat glanced behind him, caught his foot on a half-buried root, and fell hard. His musket flew from his hand, but he quickly crawled to it. "'You are my prisoner, sir,' the boy declared in a shaky voice. 'Lay down your musket.
'"The redcoat had no intention of becoming a prisoner. He pulled out a gunpowder cartridge, ripped it open with his teeth, and poured powder into his firing pan. His hands were shaking so violently that most of the powder fell to the ground."
The question that had come to me shortly after my beginning to read FORGE, and which continued to bug me was: How exactly does Laurie Halse Anderson write historical fiction so that it can be so easily read; so well enjoyed; and in such a manner that readers can connect so readily with characters who lived so long ago?
"Stop!' The boy brought his musket up to fire. 'I swear I'll shoot.' He wiped his right hand on his breeches, then cocked the firelock and slipped his finger in the trigger guard.
"The redcoat fumbled in his shot bag for a lead musketball.
"The boy squeezed the trigger. His flint hit the empty firing pan with a dull click. The musket didn't fire. He'd forgotten to prime his pan.
"The redcoat pulled out his ramrod.
"The boy grabbed the cork out of his powder horn.
"My palms were sweating, my eyes going back and forth trying to figger who would win the race to load and shoot."
Many people think that the life of the author must be incredibly glamorous, filled with cheering crowds of adoring fans, travel by limo, and being heralded by marching bands.
If you read this blog regularly, you know that the reality is very far removed from that fantasy.
Except for yesterday.
The Teen Book Festival in Rochester is the top teen book fest in the country. Maybe the world. Thousands of teens came to listen to a couple dozen YA authors. We were all blown away by the magnitude and wonderful atmosphere of the event.
It's always good to start an event with a cool cake. We had a dinner on Friday night at the Strong National Museum of Play so we could meet each other and hang out with some of the incredible librarians whose volunteer efforts pull TBF together.
I FINALLY got to meet Barry Lyga, who is much nicer than he wants to admit. You can see him TODAY at river's end bookstore in Oswego, NY at 2 pm.
And I met Lisa McMann, which I've been wanting to do for a long time.
They really did drive us to the event in two limos.
Here's an interior shot of the limo I rode it. You can see Matt de la Peña toward the back on the left, Alyson Noel on the far right, and just to the left of Alyson, Holly Black.
And when we got to the Nazareth campus, Ellen Hopkins and Terry Trueman were transferred to a motorcycle & sidecar. At the front of the procession? An honest-to-goodness marching band.
That was when I knew the day was going to be a waking fantasy.
Then I saw the giant posters of all the authors on the walls and began to doubt the "waking" part of that previous sentence. It felt like a fever dream.
We all spoke on a "lightning round" panel in the gym, then broke off to give workshops to smaller audiences. Thank you everyone who took the time to hang our at my presentations!
At the end of the day we met back in the gym to sign books. And sign books. And sign books. For hours. It was heavenly.
