blog party

In the next 17 months, there will be three brand-new Andrew Smith books on the shelves.

Ooooh!

On October 2, Passenger, the sequel to The Marbury Lens, will be released, followed in spring of 2013 by Winger, and fall of 2013 by Grasshopper Jungle.

I know this is crazily egotistical to say, but they are all very good books, and as different from one another as an phone book is from a quail egg.

In any event, four amazing bloggers have gotten together to host Saturday read-alongs starting in June and focusing on my first four novels: Ghost Medicine, In the Path of Falling Objects, Stick, and The Marbury Lens (coming out in paperback this fall, too). This is being done as a run-up to the release of Passenger.

I really have to say how much I appreciate the book-blogging community for getting behind my work. It's sometimes hard to get noticed as a writer when you're a guy, and you're also adrift in a sea of monster-human love stories (I can change you! I love you for who you are! You've been "watching over" me since I was just a child and now we're in love, love, LOVE! Okay, that's a little creepy.), epic and endless series, and books with those brooding, pouty, dark-haired girls whose faces you can't entirely see on their covers.

So, great thanks to the following blogs:

Lady Reader's Bookstuff

Roofbeam Reader

Smash Attack Reads

Not Now... I'm Reading

If you click on any of those links, they will give you details of the four bloggers' plans, with more specific chapter assignments coming in May.

I'm looking forward to popping in on some of the comments and seeing what they say about those books.

I also have to give special thanks to all these bloggers for contacting me and ASKING if they could do this. Who would ever say no? What an amazing thing for them to do.

I think the mastermind behind it was Amy (at Lady Reader's Bookstuff), so yesterday I sent her a big box of STUFF for the bloggers to use for their Saturday read-alongs. Here's what some of the stuff in the box looks like:

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the redesigned company symbol

So, the other day a young reader said this to me:

You know how, in English classes, your teacher always says shit like -- Oh, THIS is what F. Scott Fitzgerald was symbolizing with the green light in Gatsby -- and you are never allowed to argue with it, and if you ever write an essay about The Great Gatsby, you have to say EXACTLY the same thing about what the teacher says F. Scott Fitzgerald was symbolizing or else you will get an "F"? Well, I just want to know: When you write books, do you authors really sit down and decide about definite things you are symbolizing, or do you just make shit up?

That is a true story.

I was actually asked that exact question.

I think the young person who asked me it was symbolizing confusion.

Here is what I answered:

Yes. Yes we do. It is how we tell the SMART people from the stupid ones. SMART people know EXACTLY what we authors mean when we use obtuse symbolism and shit like that, while the stupid ones go on, quite frequently, to become English teachers and political speechwriters. Now go away and leave me alone.

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news from the stew of los angeles

I have some updates on my appearances at this June's American Library Association Annual Conference in Anaheim, California.

On Sunday morning (June 24), I will participate in YALSA's YA Authors Coffee Klatch, which is probably one of the coolest things that happens at ALA, besides maybe getting a signed ARC of Passenger.

Some people will undoubtedly do both, in which case they can face the end of days knowing there is nothing left to experience on life's satisfaction scale.

So, on Friday evening (June 22), Michael Grant, Daniel Handler, Jon Scieszka (I did not Google his name this time to see if I spelled it correctly. I am living life on the edge today, mostly because of my intensely bad mood.), Daniel Kraus, and I will be speaking at Booklist's Youth Forum on the topic of how guys don't know how to read, write, or spell Jon Scieszka's last name.

Friday evening is the Macmillan publishing party, too.

There are never enough parties at ALA.

Saturday morning (June 23), I'll be speaking to librarians at Macmillan's breakfast preview (I'll be talking about, and holding up a copy of Passenger), and then off to Macmillan booth 2534 - 2535 to sign copies of Passenger from 10:00 - 11:00 A.M.

I've got some other stuff coming up on Saturday afternoon and evening, too, which I will tell about later.

I'll try to not be so grumpy.

Then, on Tuesday morning, after the whirlwind gala that is the Printz reception the evening before, I am going to be abducting the great author A.S. King and secreting her away to el Rancho de Drew, where she and I are working on a secret project that will make heads explode.

Hallucinogenic cupcakes.

Her people are aware of this.

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news from the soup of the universe

This, apparently, is how it starts, people.

They are coming to take over the planet, and I have proof.

Over the weekend, I received an email from the O--- Corporation. I am not going to reveal the full name of the corporation or its representative, fearing potential reprisal against me.

They want me to be their minion.

The email included this line:

We need a trustworthy Human as our company representative who will be working for the company...

Who capitalizes the word Human?

Nobody.

Nobody, that is, unless you are NOT a human.

If you are a Being from some godless part of the universe.

Apparently, these beings from the O--- Corporation also have had poor luck in finding a Human who is trustworthy. And they go on, to do something more evil than I can imagine.

They make up words that do not exist!

Here is the rest of the line from above (note again the mysterious capitalization of certain words):

...as a Representative with a good beneficting Payment as salary.

Beneficting?

Be warned.

They plan on beneficting Humans.

Well, it's not going to start with me, Emperor Ming the Merciless, or whoever -- whatever -- You are.

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the best and the most difficult

Before Passenger comes out on October 2, the paperback edition (whose cover is a complete mystery to me) of The Marbury Lens will be published in September.

That paperback will have a lengthy excerpt from Passenger in its appendix, as well as an author Q&A and... um... author photograph, too.

Anyway, I wanted to share a question and response here the people at Square Fish (Macmillan's paperback imprint) asked me about The Marbury Lens, and then, since I actually have, like, four books (counting that paperback) coming out between now and fall of 2013, respond to it for each of those other -- brand new -- books.

The question was this: What was your favorite scene to write, and what was the most difficult?

Here are four answers for you:

1. The Marbury Lens:

My favorite scene to write was the one where the boys -- Jack, Ben, and Griffin -- find the anomalous train sitting in the middle of a salt flat in the Marbury desert. I think the qualities that appeal to me most in that scene are the dark mystery of the train, and the sense of wonder and discovery at all the cool and horrifying stuff the boys find inside. I had always intended to write the backstory about how that train got there and what happened to the passengers inside it. I actually started to write a comic book -- just about THAT train in Marbury. Needless to say, the story of the train is an important element in Passenger.

The most difficult scene to write in The Marbury Lens was what finally happened to Seth and his adoptive father, Blake Mansfield after the accidental killing of the minister named Uncle Teddy. That scene upset me for a long time. It still bothers me to go back and reread it.

2. Passenger:

To be totally honest, there were so many exciting scenes I had a blast writing in this book. I enjoyed writing all the scenes with our new character -- Quinn -- because he's so sneaky and annoying. But I think the scene in the London Underground, when Henry and Jack try to "get back home" and Quinn is chasing while Jack bleeds to death and everything falls apart around them was one of the most enjoyable to write. (Not really a spoiler)

The difficult scenes to write involved the couple times when Jack's friends -- Ben and Griffin -- blame Jack for letting them down and ruining their lives. It happens a few times in the book -- when they're in "the box," and again in Marbury's "Under," and even again after that, too. Friends are going to sometimes let one another down, and young kids like Griffin can lash out emotionally, and those are the kinds of things that hurt. You'll see.

3. Winger (coming next spring from Simon and Schuster):

No doubt about it, my favorite scene to write in this book happens when Ryan Dean, his best friend Joey, and Ryan Dean's tormentor Chas have to suffer the "consequence" for losing a poker game and go into town in the middle of the night to buy Halloween costumes. Ryan Dean and Joey end up being stuck inside a car, in the middle of a flash flood, with a guy named Screaming Ned. Best scene ever. I laughed out loud while writing it. I still laugh at that scene. Maybe I'm insane.

The most difficult scene to write happens between Ryan Dean and Doc Mom -- the mother of Ryan Dean's girlfriend, Annie. That's all I'll say about that.

4. Grasshopper Jungle (coming next fall from Dutton/Penguin):

This book was a pure joy/adrenaline rush to write. I have actually done a few out-loud readings of chapters in the book which can practically stand alone as short stories, and I like them very much. The first one is called Stupid People Should Never Read Books, and it's about how Austin (the narrator of this "history") gets in trouble for writing a book report on Robert Cormier's The Chocolate War. The second is a chapter called Rat Boys From Mars and an Unfortunate Incident Involving an Inflatable Whale, which is about Austin and his best friend, Robby, being mistaken for alien invaders and getting shot at by Austin's next-door-neighbor, Earl Elgin, and Earl's son, EJ. And there is an inflatable whale in it, too. All I can say is Ouch. Both those chapters seem to go over very well as read-alouds, as long as the person doing the reading is not easily embarrassed.

I can't say there was any part of the book that was difficult to write. One time, I sat down and tried to compile a list of all the characters and people who are mentioned in the book. I couldn't do it. There were parts of the book that made me very angry, though. A chapter called Soup From Paint Cans comes to mind.

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a wager on the ponies

The Kentucky Derby is approaching again, and once again a writerly wager has been placed.

I guess we couldn't get enough of it last year, so authors Catherine Ryan Hyde, Brian Farrey, Kimberly Pauley, and myself are once again choosing our mounts and awaiting the results.

Here's how the bet works: whoever has the lead horse at the end of the race (it doesn't have to win) gets to make up the title of a short story, and the next author-horse combo has to write the story and post it online. This gets repeated down the line to the last finisher. So, the person whose horse comes in ahead of the others only has to create a title, but everyone else has to create a title for the next in line as well as write an assigned short story. The person at the end doesn't need to make up any title.

There may be other authors involved, too. But the first four from last year are coming back to do it again.

The big winners? Readers who will get a pack of fresh short stories from some pretty sharp authors.

Happy races.

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winger tuesday

Here is another question I get asked just about every time I speak to kids about my books: Did the things in your novel actually happen to you in real life?

The answer is yes.

Although it's not really Winger Tuesday -- I just made that up -- I thought I'd talk a little bit about that second-in-the-queue book of mine today.

Winger is coming out next spring from Simon and Schuster.

Winger is a different kind of Andrew Smith book (what two are similar, anyway?) because it's kind of funny, and it also includes comic book pages, drawings, charts, diagrams, poems, plays, love notes and other stuff.

It's about a kid named Ryan Dean (that's his first name) who attends a school for misfit rich kids, where he plays rugby, which is the greatest sport known to man.

Rugby has been a part of my life for a very long time.

See this picture down here:

That kid raising his hand there on the far left is my son, Trevin, when he was about seven years old and starting off playing on his first rugby team. Kids at that age (in America, at least) play touch, as opposed to tackle rugby, and with only seven kids on a team.

Trevin was pretty tall for a seven-year-old. Um, now that he's seventeen, he's six-foot-five. He goes to UC Berkeley, which I mention because Cal happens to have the best collegiate rugby team in America. Trevin no longer plays, but if he did, he would be a hell of a lock, which is a second row forward. In Winger, one of the characters -- a jerk of a kid (who also has a soft spot) -- named Chas plays lock.

Unlike his dad, I don't think Trevin enjoys hitting people.

So I was feeling a little nostalgic last night, thinking about Winger. I coached a terrific high school rugby team for a number of years, but just don't have time for it any longer. I'd really love to do it again, though.

See this kid down here:

Okay. This kid showed up one day when we were conducting summer practices. His name is Davis, and I'm pretty sure that picture was taken on his first day of practice. He rode his bike down to the field, where about 75 boys were trying out for the team. He was 14 or 15, and had just moved to California, and came up to me and asked if he could play. The kid ended up playing for the US National team over in Europe.

Anyway, so I was feeling nostalgic about rugby last night, because, out of the blue Davis, who lives two states away now, phoned me and asked me to come to his wedding next month.

It's been a long time.

He's read my books, and I told him that my book about rugby would be coming out next spring.

He said, "It's about time, Coach." (I think he will probably call me Coach for the rest of my life).

Anyway, an awful lot of the little stories that happen in Winger actually happened to the kids on my teams over the years. Some of them are kind of embarrassing (and the kids -- now men -- will definitely remember them).

One of those stories -- about when three punks showed up at practice looking to knife one of our players -- also actually happened.

I've been trying to think of something dumber than showing up at a rugby practice with the intention of knifing a rugby player, but can't come up with anything.

I'll leave it at that. You'll have to read the book.

This is when we played a team from Perth, Australia (the Aussies are in green):

This was after the game, after the kids had beaten the living shit out of each other for 80 minutes.

If they look like they really like each other, they do. It's part of the game. Five minutes before this photo, they were trying to kill each other.

I can still look at that photo and tell you just about every nickname the kids on our team had for each other. Nicknames are permanent things in rugby.

The photo below is a close-in shot from a scrum. The kid on the right was one of the best loosehead props (sometimes he played hooker if we had our really big props in the game) I ever coached.

His nickname was Chicago. I think people still call him that.

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