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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 care; you kept asking; you kept pressing; I am grateful) of
This Is the Story of You.
I am grateful today for the lovely Library Journal review of LOVE: A Philadelphia Affair, which so aptly captures the spirit of the book (and our city). Thanks to Gary Kramer for sending it my way.Kephart, Beth. Love: A Philadelphia Affair. Temple Univ. 2015. 140p. photos. ISBN 9781439913154. $24.50. TRAV
philadelphia101615The tourism promotion motto of the Philadelphia region is “the place that loves you back.” This aptly named collection based on Philadelphia Inquirer columns is a resident’s love song to the city and its suburbs. Kephart has written on the region before in Flow, her wonderful book on Philadelphia’s iconic Schuykill River. Here she waxes poetic about some of the city’s famous landmarks, such as Reading Terminal Market and 30th Street Station. The author also conjures up the less-well-known Woodlands Cemetery and the suburb of Glenside. She particularizes places on specific dates with specific sunlight. This isn’t a tourist’s book in the sense that a visitor is going to find practical information about where to go. Rather it is an evocation of what Philadelphia is like through the pen of a gifted writer. So the native will find memories stirred and the tourist will be stimulated to visit. It is also somewhat autobiographical. For example, the author writes about Locust Walk at the heart of the University of Pennsylvania based on her college years.
Verdict Kephart has written in many genres, from young adult fiction to poetry; here she adds another excellent nonfiction book for the general reader. Recommended.—David Azzolina, Univ. of Pennsylvania Libs., Philadelphia I share this review along with a list of upcoming events. No two are the same. Most are open to the public. This coming Tuesday night, for example, I'll be at Radnor Memorial Library sharing dozens of photographs of Devon, Wayne, Valley Forge National Park, Ardmore, and the surrounding areas—and talking about the passions that have erupted in me (gardening, dance, pottery, horses), thanks to my living right here. Next Saturday I'll be at BookFest @ Bank Street in NYC, talking about narrative risk on a glorious panel moderated by Kirkus's Vicky Smith. I'll be back here on Sunday, to sign books at Main Point Books in Bryn Mawr.On November 5, I'll be at the Ambler Theater, reflecting on Philadelphia as an artistic canvas, as part of the Upper Dublin/Wissahickon Valley Public Library's second-annual "Let's Discuss It" program. On November 7, I'll be down on the Penn campus, interviewing Buzz Bissinger, for Penn's Homecoming. And then a memoir workshop at Book Garden in Frenchtown, NJ, talks in area schools, the November Book Club Happy Hour in Harleysville (sign up soon), and a series of in-store signings to close out the year.
I hope to see you along the way.October 20, 2015, 7:30 p.m.
Radnor Memorial Library
A Celebration of One Thing Stolen
and Love: A Philadelphia Affair
114 W. Wayne Avenue
Wayne, PA 19087Details here. (open to public) October 21, 2015The Cultural Series at Kennedy House1901 JFK BoulevardPhiladelphia, PA(private event)October 24, 2015
Panelist
BookFest @ Bank Street
Bank Street College of Education
610 West 112th Street
New York, NY Details here. (registration required) October 25, 2015, 4 p.m.
Love: A Philadelphia Affair signing
Main Point Books
1041 W. Lancaster Avenue
Bryn Mawr, PA(open to public) November 1, 2015, 2:00 PMLOVE and FLOW Women for Greater PhiladelphiaLaurel Hill Mansion Philadelphia, PA(private event)
November 5, 2015, 7:30 PM
LOVE is the Upper Dublin/Wissahickon Valley Library Let's Discuss It Pick. Ambler Theater. Details here.
November 7, 2015, 4 PM
Homecoming Weekend/Penn
Penn alum (and students), come join Kelly Writers House and me as we host Buzz Bissinger. Buzz and I will be talking about the art of teaching and about his new preface to his famed Friday Night Lights.Kelly Writers House | 3805 Locust Walk | Arts Café
RSVP: [email protected] or call (215) 746-poem November 15, 2015Memoir Workshop In-store receptionThe RatOrganized by The Book Garden Frenchtown, NJ
Details here. (registration required)November 16, 2015LOVE, TRUTH, and GOING OVERFrenchtown, NJ-area high schools(private events)
November 19, 2015, 7 PM
November Book Club Happy Hour
Harleysville Book Store
Harleysville, PA
Details here. December 3, 2015, 7 PMLOVE signingChester County BooksWest Chester, PA(open to public)
December 5, 2015, noonLOVE signingBarnes and NobleDevon, PA(open to public)
December 10, 2015, 12 - 2PM
Barnes & Noble signing
Rittenhouse Square
Philadelphia, PA
December 12, 2015, 2 PM
In-store signing
LOVE, etc.
Big Blue Marble Bookstore
551 Carpenter Lane
Philadelphia, PA
Germantown, PA March 1, 2016, 6:00 PM
Beltran Family Teaching Award EventFeaturing A.S. King, Margo Rabb, Rahna Reiko Rizzuto,Penn students, and moiKelly Writers HouseUniversity of PennsylvaniaPhiladelphia, PA(open to public)
April 16, 2016
Little Flower Teen Writing Festival
Keynote Speaker
Little Flower Catholic High School for Teens
Philadelphia, PA May 22, 2016Open Book Memoir Retreat, with Daniel TordayWhitpain Farm
Blue Bell, PA
Details here.
The extremely dear Pamela Sedor has invited me back to the Radnor Memorial Library to talk about two books that take place in two sister cities, LOVE (Philadelphia) and ONE THING STOLEN (Philadelphia and Florence).
She is dear, that space is kind, this is my good fortune.
And there will be cake.
I hope that you can join us.
Love will be available in September from Temple University Press, in time for the Pope's Love is Our Mission visit to Philadelphia. I'll be launching the book officially at the Free Library of Philadelphia on October 7, then celebrating again at Radnor Memorial Library and Main Point Books.
It would make me happy to see you.
Look for my story this weekend in the Philadelphia Inquirer's special Papal Visit issue.
October 7, 2015, 7:30 p.m.
Launch of Love: A Philadelphia Affair
Free Library of Philadelphia
Benjamin Franklin Parkway
Philadelphia, PA
October 20, 2015, 7:30 p.m.
Radnor Memorial Library
A Celebration of One Thing Stolen
and Love: A Philadelphia Affair
114 W. Wayne Avenue
Wayne, PA 19087
October 25, 2015, 4 p.m.
Love: A Philadelphia Affair signing
Main Point Books
1041 W. Lancaster Avenue
Bryn Mawr, PA
At Radnor High, I was hosted by the exquisite Michelle Wetzel and Fran Misener and that most fabulous Molly Carroll Newton (of Radnor Memorial Library). There were brownies, pretzels, sandwiches. There were students who had much to say, teachers who made room for the session, a vibrant and vast library world. There was a story about a family member who lost his life in East Berlin because he would not relinquish his bicycle to the guard. There were healthy debates about risks and choices. There were the kinds of conversations that leave a happy buzz inside my head.
The art above is by Fran Misener, one of my hosts for the day. (I so love this.)
The poem below is by Eun-Soo Park, who leads the book club at Radnor High and who had me sign his copy of
Going Over for a friend who was off on a field trip that day.
She really wanted to meet you, he said.
So I think I should give the book to her. (I so love
that.)
Eun-Soo wrote:
The Cost of Freedom
Waiting with words trapped within
Ready to burst with irrepressible emotion
Unable to make a choice
For fear of stumbling into regret.
Bonds broken, lives at stake,
Stuck with a feeling of stasis.
Time passes.
Every second, a wasted opportunity.
What stops a fleeting rush toward freedom?
The danger, the worry, the risk of death.
But what really hinders the dreams of life
Is believing that one can exist without freedom.
Jake wrote as well. I share his words here as emblematic of many of the wonderful words the students of Radnor High produced during our time together:
The promised land is a distant light,
A chasm, deep and dark.
Too wide to see where it ends
Crossable, but with a steep cost.
The fear of the unknown: the final barrier.
My work with these students is not done. My pleasure is ongoing.
Finally, Ms. Wetzel gave me a gift of air which also turned out to be (surprise) a pair of air-colored earrings. I believe that it was those very earrings that got me through a long ride and a final river talk yesterday. Michelle, you were there with me.
(I so love
that.)
You could say that I have pretty lousy book-launch party luck. Once, for example, a short first printing left us with only a handful of books for the book party. Once we launched the book on the very same night that every available parking space had already been consumed by another event, sending some would-be party goers home.
And then there was last night—24 hours or so into an historic deluge that had drains busted, streets flooded, cars stranded, basements swimming. This was the GOING OVER launch day. My email kept pinging with notes from people who had planned to come but couldn't. Oh dear, I thought. Oh, my. Because who would drive flooded streets in dark, unstopping rain for a book? Who would dare float toward Berlin?
You could say that I have lousy luck, but I'm not going to claim that here. Because the fact is this: despite impossible weather that demanded all variety of rubber foot gear, we had a party. Pam and Molly of Radnor Memorial Library are famous for their generosity, and there they were again—gracious, open-hearted, slicing into that cake. Beside that cake stood the
GOING OVER vessel my clay-arts friend, Karen Bernstein, had made.
And in the audience—because we did have an audience—were my father and husband, neighbors of now and a dear neighbor of then, long-time friends, fellow writers, a Berlin scholar and a Berlin traveler, the inimitable Kevin Ferris of the
Inquirer, three sweet-and-smart-as-heck Little Flower Catholic High School students (Kathleen, Amber, Julia) and their Sister Kim, and a Radnor High contingent—Rib, Jim, Tom—who had orchestrated a sweet surprise. They look precisely the same as they did those years ago. I could not believe it.
Then there was Heather, that gorgeous young woman featured above, who was the inspiration for Ada in GOING OVER. Her face. Her deep connection to color and life. Some of the secrets she once whispered into my ear while I sat in her hair-salon chair. I love that I can show you who she is, right here. Ada is one of my favorite characters, and Heather is even greater than fiction.
Those who came last night had to brave the weather. They had to decide to leave their homes in a sinking mess of a day and make the drive. Sister Kim and her girls ultimately spent three hours in a car. Soup had to drive the highways. My father had to dodge the flooded potholes. Kevin had to walk a long block in soaking rain.
Everyone had to disregard the police barrier that signaled that, due to excessive rains, the road to the library was closed.
It was not closed. Pam and Molly made sure of that.
Afterward, my dear friends Elizabeth Mosier and Kelly Simmons treated me to their glorious selves, their raucous laughter, pizza, white wine. But let's get back to their "glorious selves" part.
Thank you. Everyone. For coming. Thank all of you who would have been there if you could. I really believe in this story, GOING OVER. But more than that, I believe in you.
There's plenty of rain out there, stripping the cherry trees of their pinks, heavying the heads of tulips, flooding the low plateaus of my brief driveway.
But inside all is color as I prepare for the launch of
Going Over, my Berlin novel. Karen Bernstein, who surprised me earlier this month with
a birthday celebration at the Wayne Art Center, has been at work on this vase for a long time now. She's a clay artist of the highest order. She read the book while it was still in galley form. She studied images of the actual graffiti on the Berlin Wall and made this pot — West Berlin, then East Berlin, 1983. See that arrow up there? It's symbolic. See those flowers? Incredibly gorgeous. They fight the rain. They elevate my mood. They say love, in so very many ways.
I wish you could meet Karen and see for yourself what a special and uber talented person she is. She is, however, now in a car, headed to NYC, where she will meet Diane Keaton (whom I love so much that I celebrated her in
Handling the Truth) at the 92nd Street Y. Karen has a lot of Diane in her. The two could probably talk forever. If they did, or when they do, Diane K. will be enchanted.
Those of you here, near, those of you able to slip out with all this rain, come join us for cake at Radnor Memorial Library, Winsor Room, 7:30 PM.
Berlin Wall.
Friends.
Family.
A little Springsteen, too.
My dear friends Elizabeth Mosier and Chris Mills sent me this photo last night, following their excursion to Radnor Memorial Library.
We writers live in the forest of doubt, or at least this writer does. This photo startled me—this idea of a dear librarian (Pam Sedor) taking the time to locate my books and to place them all on one wall. This idea of a celebration going on while I've been going on elsewhere.
I forget, often, about the words I've left behind. I focus, too often, on what must be done
right now, on what isn't done yet.
I neglect to pause. This celebration at Radnor Memorial Library—discovered by friends—is cause for a pause.
We'll be celebrating
Going Over at this very Radnor Memorial Library on April 30, 7:30. This will be my only formal reading from the book, and this party is open to all; cake will be served. Please join us.
In the meantime, today, I am celebrating the work of Michael Sokolove and editor Avery Rome at the University of Pennsylvania's Kelly Writers House. My class has read Sokolove's fantastic
Drama High. We have questions. We look forward to reflection, to a deep and true conversation.
And then Pamela Sedor said, she said:
But if there's a book there must be cake!And I said,
Are you sure?And she said she was sure, very sure.
And so, my friends, there will indeed be a real-live-cake-for-all party for
Going Over, the book that is launching on April 1. I invite any of you near and not so far to join us at:
Radnor Memoir Library
Winsor Room
April 30, 7:30 PM
114 W. Wayne Avenue
Wayne, PA 19087
Bring friends. Bring your sugar appetites. We'll talk about the Wall in this, the 25th year since it fell. We'll talk about walls in general—around a world that is suddenly looking a little Cold War grim.
I look forward to seeing you. For those who cannot be there in person, there is a multi-stop blog tour gearing up (thanks to Lara of Chronicle). Book giveaways, interviews, and revelations all on tap. More on that soon.
Earlier this summer New City Community Press/Temple University Press released a book that means so much to me—
Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent. It's a book about poor Philadelphia in 1871, a book about Eastern State Penitentiary, Baldwin Locomotives Works, My River (notice the caps), two best friends, and an heroic blowzy named Pearl. Among other things.
Reviewers have been extremely kind, some of their thoughts
here.
I'll be officially launching that book in just a few weeks at Radnor Memorial Library—reading from it for the first time, talking about it for the first time, sharing it, because that's what we do.
I hope you will consider joining us. Huge thanks to Pamela Sedor, who throws a wonderful party.
By:
Beth Kephart ,
on 9/13/2012
Blog:
Beth Kephart Books
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For reasons too complex, too personal to render fully here, yesterday was a day of deep emotion.
There were, however, friends all along the way. Elizabeth Mosier, the beauty in the dark gray dress, will always stand, in my mind, on either side of the day—at its beginnings, at its very late-night end. For your mid-day phone kindness, for your breathtaking introduction of me at last night's book launch, for the night on the town, for the talk in the car, for the bounty of your family—Libby, I will always be so grateful.
To Patti Mallet and her friend, Anne, who drove all the way from Ohio to be part of last night's celebration, I will never forget your gesture of great kindness, your love for green things at Chanticleer, and a certain prayer beside my mother's stone. Patti and I are there, above, at the pond which inspired two of my books.
To Pam Sedor, the lovely blonde in violet, a world-class Dragon Boat rower recently returned from an international competition in Hong Kong, the librarian who makes books happen and dreams come true, and to Molly, who puts up with my techno anxieties, and to Radnor Memorial Library, for being my true home—thank you, always.
To my friends who came (from church, from books, from architecture, from corporate life, from the early years through now)—thank you. Among you were Avery Rome, the beautiful red-head who edits Libby, me, and others at the
Philadelphia Inquirer, and Kathy Barham, my brilliant and wholly whole son's high school English teacher, who is also a poet (shown here in green). To the town of Wayne, which received our open-air tears and laughter late into the night (and to Cyndi, Kelly, Libby, Avery, and Kathye who cried and laughed with me)—thank you.
And also, finally, to Heather Mussari—my muse (along with Tamra Tuller) for the Berlin novel, a young lady so wise beyond her years, and a cool, cool chick who (along with Sandy) does my hair—I arrived at 11:15 at your shop inconsolable. You listened. You said all the right things by telling the truth and telling it kindly. I adore you, Heather. I hope you know that.
And so I realized that my
Small Damages launch party (at Radnor Memorial Library, this Wednesday night, 7:30) is but a few days away. And so I began to tremble. I hadn't prepared. I hadn't sat down and thought it through. I have nearby friends coming, not to mention a certain Patti Mallett, who is making the journey from quite a long way away. I could not afford to get up there and wing it.
I dedicated this afternoon to making sure that I didn't wing it.
There will, as everybody knows, be cake.
But there will also be a tour of my Estela's kitchen.
Can you guess what this ingredient is?
One week ago today I was still anticipating the Springsteen concert, still thinking my next book would be based in Siena, still ashamed of the thatchy weeds out by my mailbox, and still holding my breath (just a little) as my son moved into his new home and work opportunity.
How things change, and how quickly.
I've since danced in Springsteen's dark, booked an apartment (for research) in Florence, tugged (most of) the weeds away, and listened to my son talk, with such confidence and happiness, about his new city and his deepening passions. I have read books about birds and eggs, teared up at Michelle Obama, been interviewed by two men for separate publications who startled me with their knowledge of my work, navigated unexpected changes in my publishing life, finished an employee newsletter, reached out to friends who were there, and been reminded, over and over again, that love is the most important thing. Love, and a child's happiness.
This weekend I'm hibernating just a bit as I work my way through the first and second chapters of that now-Florence novel. I'm going to the movies with my husband (he has promised me a trip to "The Words"). And I'm preparing for the next few weeks. Please join me, if you can.
September 12, 2012
Radnor Memorial Library, Radnor, PA
SMALL DAMAGES launch party
7:30 PM. Details here.
September 14, 2012
The Bruce Springsteen/Glory Days Symposium
Monmouth University
Appearing with April Lindner, Jane Satterfield, Ned Balbo, and Ann Michael
Details here.
September 21, 2012
Joining David Levithan, Ellen Hopkins, and Jennifer Hubbard at Children's Book World
7 PM. Details here.
You Are My Only is my thirteenth book. In the early days, when that fact would surface, I was given all kinds of advice about how to go straight from 12 to 14 and thereby skip the unluckiness in between. I shrugged it off. A number is just a number, not a superstition. Right?
But in the 24 hours leading up to the long-awaited book launch party at Radnor Memorial Library last evening, I began to rethink my no superstition policy. I lost my glasses. I lost my camera. It rained most fierce just ahead of the party hour. Most concerning was that mid-day hour, when it was discovered that the copies of the books that were to be sold that night had not yet made their way to Children's Book World, which had so kindly offered to join us at the event. I admit it: A few tears were shed.
And yet, I will look back on last night as one of the luckiest nights of my life. Let's talk about what happened at six o'clock, at Elizabeth Mosier's incredibly beautiful and hospitable home, where writers feasted on Elizabeth's amazing Mexican meal. Libby is always there—a hugely talented writer and reader with a generous heart—and everyone in my neck of the woods (me perhaps above all) is grateful. Let's talk about Pam Sedor, a dear friend, who has given me a home for years at her luxurious Winsor Room. Let's talk about John, one of the most intelligent young readers I know (in fact, I refuse to believe that he is anything other than a
New York Times Book Review writer), who sent me an email at this book's very start and who, late yesterday afternoon, sent me a link to
his most stunning Dear Author review. Let's talk about
Florinda and
Amy and
Melissa and
Caroline, who wrote loving notes just ahead of the event. Let's talk about Ellen Trachtenberg, a friend who has stood by me throughout the publication of this book, lending me her perspective, know-how, and smarts. Let's talk about Amy Rennert, my agent, who was on the phone with me several times during the course of yesterday, and who sent a beautiful email last evening. Let's talk about those dancers, St. Johner's, writers, Zumbaists, long-time friends, neighbors, teachers, book clubbers, colleagues who worked their way in from the storm. I wondered, to tell you the truth, if anyone would. They did. They were there. Each one a treasure.
I hope that they know they are treasured.
In my opening remarks last evening I talked a little about what it takes to be a writer.
Sunday, 8 PM. A day of writing behind me, which is to say, a day of reworking what had already been worked. In the coming week,
You Are My Only will launch. On Tuesday I will name the winners of the
You Are My Only Treasure Hunt. On Wednesday, I will return to my friends at Rutgers-Camden (thank you, Lisa Zeidner, hello, Daniel Wallace) to teach, to lecture, to critique, to read. On Thursday evening, at Radnor Memorial Library, thanks to the good graces of Pam Sedor, I will gather with my dear friends and reflect—those festivities made even brighter by the goodness of Elizabeth Mosier.
One waits a long time for a book to find itself, and a long time (too) for a book to find its way into the world. One hopes for things, and by my blogger friends, my reader friends, my writer friends—my friends—I have been blessed.
I found this single fuscia leave today on my long walk.
That, my many loved ones, is my heart.
On this beautiful afternoon, I extend an invitation to all of you (oh come, please do) to the launch party for You Are My Only, which will be held at the Radnor Memorial Library on October 27 at 7:30 PM.
Radnor Memorial Library
114 W. Wayne Avenue
Wayne, PA 19087
I'm going to be sharing some of the images that inspired the book's making and talking about what happens behind the scenes as a book finds its footing.
And, but of course, there will be cake.
Thank you, Pam Sedor, for once again being the hostess with the mostest, and thank you Children's Book World, for always being there, making the good things happen.
I'm at work on my talk today. In the meantime, I share two new reviews of the book:
"Kephart’s prose is poetry in motion—creating beauty out of everyday moments. This disquieting yet emotionally satisfying novel (written for young adults but a linguistic pleasure for any reader) alternates the stories of Emmy, desperate to find her missing baby, and homeschooled 14-year-old Sophie. The surprise is not in how these two soulful voices are connected but in the way they weave together to the book’s finely spun ending." — Darcy Jacobs, Family Circle (November 2011)
"This has a very different style from classic child-abduction melodramas such as Mazer’s Taking Terri Mueller (BCCB 6/83) and Ehrlich’s Where It Stops, Nobody Knows (BCCB 1/89); Kephart’s writing is a thing of beauty in its own right, and Sophie’s story earns its frequent and apt allusions to Rapunzel with its own fai
Where does our love for stories begin? Who yields to us the possibilities? Of what is an author made—or a dreamer? It started for me, way back then, with parents who loved me, and who loved one another. This photograph is taken from a scrapbook that my mother began for my father in the early 1960s. It was his Christmas present. My parents were only just beginning to build their lives, but my mother understood that it was important both to live well—alivedly, happily, with music, with puppets, with hula hoops and fanciful cakes—and to remember how that living had gotten done. She captioned the photos she collected for my father, pasted them onto black paper, and in her Christmas note to him wrote that, “It’s not very evident at times, but I did restrain myself from being too corny.”
Tonight I’m seeking patterns and meaning in the lyric of my own life. I’m questing after answers: Where does our love for stories begin, and how do we love those stories back?
Please join us at the Radnor Memorial Library, 114 West Wayne Avenue, Wayne, PA, for a talk about life, my city, and
Dangerous Neighbors.
...the very first page of the very first notes I ever took, for my very first writing workshop. I was a mother already. I was way too old to be a newbie. But there I was in Spoleto, Italy, in July 1994, and there, before me, stood Reginald Gibbons and Rosellen Brown. In two too-short weeks they taught me most everything I still know about the making of stories.
I'll be reflecting on the idiosyncratic evolution of this writer's life,
among other things, at the Radnor Memorial Library, November 16th, 7:30. I hope you'll join me.
I have Egmont USA's Greg Ferguson to thank for inspiriting this afternoon with the good news of a very kind School Library Journal review for
Dangerous Neighbors, the final words of which I quote here, and Pamela Sedor and Ann Pagano to thank for the Radnor Memorial Library event poster above.
I honestly don't know what I'd do, on some of these darkish, headed toward winter days without this kind of light.
Thank you.
Ultimately, it is through chance meetings with “dangerous neighbors” and caring strangers that Katherine begins to consider the possibilities of her own life going forward. Her forgiveness of Bennett and herself gives birth to a sense of hope and helps this tenderly crafted story end with a positive spin. Kephart has painted a vivid picture of the Exhibition. Readers can practically smell the roasted peanuts and feel the bruise of crowds shoving by as she creates a lively setting against which a quiet, desperate struggle is played out.–Karen Elliott, Grafton High School, WI(School Library Journal)
I wish I could! Oh, how I wish I could.
Alas, I will be elsewhere that day! But I wish you a wonderful time!
Wonderful...and if it were a wee bit closer...I'd be there in person...as you know I love william