Into that world inverted...

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

PETER JACKSON: Dear Sir Ian, here’s my script of THE HOBBIT. Please come be Gandalf!
SIR IAN MCKELLAN: Nah.
PETER JACKSON: Dear Sir Ian, holy God, the success of these movies rests on your celebrated and award-winning silvery head. Please, please, please be Gandalf! Here’s my revised script, subtitled WIZARDS RULE, DWARVES DROOL, PS YOU’RE HOTTER THAN MICHAEL FASSBENDER.
SIR IAN MCKELLAN: … I will consider this.

Once Sir Ian was in, the movie was on, and the script had to be further elegantly crafted…

( Thorin Dreamboatshield: An Unexpected Hotness of DwarvesCollapse )

I went to see this movie yesterday with two friends, both much less nerdy than me. One disliked it, one liked it fine, and I obviously really liked it, because I just spent ages writing a parody. I mean, I think it was flawed, but I really liked it just the same!

Parodies are always done in a spirit of love here. Happy holidays, and I hope you liked it. If you should wish to continue readin’ funny things by me, here is a shameless link to my latest book! If you have already read it, m’friend, thank you for the Christmas present.

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

So, Cassie Clare and Maureen Johnson are great friends of mine. I could say I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I remember quite clearly: I met Cassie at a party where… let’s just say someone died… and I met Maureen by assaulting her with a cupcake.

Crime’s paid off for me.

Not really for them, all I do is play Taylor Swift at Cassie until she is brainwashed. I did bring my box set of MISFITS to a writing retreat in Mexico, thus introducing Cassie to a certain actor: that contribution of mine worked out okay.

My poor Americans spent their time watching MISFITS going ‘British TV is FILTHY! And that Irish boy is the FILTHIEST OF THEM ALL!’ I was proud for my country.

It was at another writing retreat, this summer in France, where we had THE IDEA. We had adopted a kitten and were sitting around on sofas petting the kitten and plotting who would die in our future novels (answer: LOTS OF PEOPLE).

MAUREEN: You know who I love?

EVERYONE: Simon.

MAUREEN: YES. But also, Magnus.

We all agreed that we loved Magnus, and that we were super excited about seeing Magnus in the movie.

I recall watching The Magnus Audition. I confess, watching The Magnus Audition enhanced my love for Magnus extremely. I clawed at Cassie’s shoulder as I watched it. I maybe bit her. I don’t recall. ‘HE’S SO HANDSOME,’ I kept saying.

‘OW’ said Cassie.

I’m deep. I like characters to have facets, okay? And one of Magnus’s facets is that he is super hot.

Back to the French sofas: I talked about how another thing that had cemented my love for Magnus was reading the Infernal Devices, because he was younger in the 1800s, at least one heartbreak back, a bit more vulnerable, still hilarious and a snappy dresser, and still so kind.

(As I am PARTICULARLY fond of the Infernal Devices, I suggested that perhaps Magnus was acquainted with a certain Mr Herondale’s father…)

We all got to talking about the adventures Magnus must have had over the centuries, the people he’d met, the wacky hijinx he’d got up to, the costumes through the ages. Maureen mimed an escape in a hot air balloon and fell off the sofa. (The kitten was very alarmed.) And we got to a point where we were writing a lot of it down, all together, because that is kind of our thing: we get together and write stuff and laugh our heads off about imaginary people. It was all going really well, and we were like, Wait. Could these be REAL stories? Could we do this?

Maureen and I had to ask ourselves, could we pull off Magnus’s voice? (Cassie thought she probably could, you know…)

Maureen said to herself: Yes, for I am hilarious. (Or at least that’s what she should have said, because she IS.)

And I remembered that I had done Magnus’s voice before, in a way…

In Clockwork Princess, Magnus, seeing how much fun Will and Jem are having (aside from all the blood and curses and romantic complications) gets a bromance of his OWN. We were thinking about how these two characters would speak to each other, and Cassie’s husband Josh and I started bantering back and forth, me playing Magnus, Josh playing Magnus’s NEW BRO.

SARAH AND JOSH: *mad laughter* *some interpretative dance*

CASSIE: KEEP GOING I AM TYPING EVERYTHING YOU ARE SAYING.

… So I decided I could perhaps pull off Magnus’s voice as well.

We all got a bit more serious about the stories, and now this is a REAL THING.

We bring to you THE BANE CHRONICLES, chronicling (you see what we did there) Magnus’s adventures through the ages.

Have you ever wondered about Magnus’s past loves and lies? Magnus and Alec’s first date? How Magnus and Camille got together? What happened in Peru? Starting in February 2013, in the run-up to City of Handsome Magnus: the Movie (Also Starring Some Other People Who Are Pretty Good-Looking) we will put out a Magnus Short Story every month.

There will be ten of Magnus’s magnificent adventures all in all. Some of them Cassie and I are writing, some of them Cassie and Maureen are writing, some Cassie is writing herself as we cruelly abandon her! All of them, we think, are lots of fun.

The NEWS is emblazoned here:

http://shelf-life.ew.com/2012/12/10/cassandra-clare-the-bane-chronicles-sarah-rees-brennan-maureen-johnson/#more-17820

We just hope you will have as much fun reading the stories as we are having writing them!

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

It is December, and that means you guys can have a snippet of Untold! I asked about on the twitter, and several people expressed the strong desire to see a little more of Mr Rusty Montgomery. So here he is, in all his glory…

( Trust me, KamiCollapse )

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

Dear internet: I know that I’ve been teasing some news Maureen Johnson, Cassandra Clare and I have (and excellent news it is!) and then we were told we couldn’t release said news until next week and had to cruelly deny you all. I am so sorry about the cruel denial!

But I do still have news. It does not involve the other two fabulous ladies, but I still hope you will LIKE IT.

So, here is the news: I have a NEW BOOK COMING OUT to tell you guys about.

I was on the phone with Anne Hoppe, the lovely editor at Harper Collins who edited mine and Justine Larbalestier’s TEAM HUMAN. She asked me about things I had been writing and thinking about writing.

… Now, when a lovely editor asks you this question, it is MUCH LIKE when a dreamy boy/girl/whoever strikes your fancy asks you if you are single. It is good news. So we chattered idly about all my ideas. Poor Anne, she wasn’t to know that I always have, at a conservative estimate, one million ideas at any time. We went through these one million ideas.

SARAH: And then there’s werewolves.
ANNE: I’m kinda tired of werewolves.
SARAH: As Plato said, she who is tired of werewolves is tired of life. However… you know how I like to tell stories about books I have read and TV shows I have seen, until said stories take on a LIFE OF THEIR OWN?
ANNE: Oooh, do you mean you’d like to do a retelling?
SARAH: Yes! You’re like an editor detective.

I was in a pool once (fancy I know!) with Cassie Clare, and we were discussing A TALE OF TWO CITIES, which is both of our favourite Dickens novel. (This is just the kind of nerdery one gets with writer friends. Possibly my favourite day in France, aside from the Kitten Adopting Day, was when Cassie gave a dramatic reading of Captain Wentworth’s letter from PERSUASION.)

This conversation lasted for hours. We went all pruny. Pruny with LOVE FOR LITERATURE. A TALE OF TWO CITIES is a fairly important element in a few of Cassie’s novels, and one of our discussion points, about what got ladies of the time hot beneath the petticoat–I mean, about the changing perception of what is deemed attractive and about book boyfriends and what, shut up, we’re classy ladies–made it into one of her books.

Many other things we discussed, and that I have discussed with others about A TALE OF TWO CITIES since then, kept lingering in my mind.

SARAH: So, A Tale of Two Cities has this scene where one guy is accused of a crime, and then his lawyer’s helper, who is lounging about being drunk and disreputable as usual, whips off his wig and is like ‘We’re coincidental lookalikes! Who can SAY who did the crime? How do you like them lookalike apples!’
ANNE: That scene did… happen, but… I’ve never heard it described that way before.
SARAH: The thing is, Anne. I don’t believe in coincidences.
SARAH: I have one word for you. DOPPELGANGERS.

In folklore, a doppelganger is the double of a living person, who represents evil, misfortune… sometimes the person’s coming death. This is, undeniably, cool.

Also in A Tale of Two Cities, the heroine Lucie spends a lot of time reacting to exciting stuff happening to her–Surprise! Your father has been released from prison! Surprise! The French Revolution!–and I thought it would be fun to write a girl who has a very active hand in what is going on.

So, in 2014, I will be publishing a modern retelling of A Tale of Two Cities, with magic. The working title for this book is TELL THE WIND AND FIRE.

It is taken from a quote from A Tale of Two Cities, which goes like this.

‘Tell the wind and fire where to stop… but don’t tell me.’

Unstoppable ladies and evil doubles coming your way in 2014, is what I’m saying. I hope you guys are even a hundredth as excited as I am!

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

So, let’s talk about drunkenness and debauchery. I will level with you: the Irish and British experience of being a teenager is pretty different than the American one. In America, you do not get served alcohol if you are not over 21: in Ireland they pretty much throw the stuff at you unless you arrive on a tricycle. Sometimes this Cultural Difference confuses and upsets people. I’ll level with you some more: I once wrote forty pages of one character being drunk because I thought it was hilarious. My editor made me cut that DOWN.

MY EDITORS: Why do you keep putting your teenagers in bars?
SARAH: I’m sorry I don’t understand your question. I’m Irish.

This time, my friends, I have gone one better.

( Kami and Jared... In the Same Room. Actually A Street. Outside A Bar.Collapse )

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

I just had some super-fabulous news about Unspoken, and since it is all down to you, beauteous readers, I decided to give you a snippet of Untold! I put up a poll on tumblr and ‘A Kissing Scene’ won by miles, because you are all saucebuckets.

Your wish is my command. Spoilers, of course, and THANK YOU!

( A Kissing Scene in UntoldCollapse )

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

So, I have a Thing To Announce!

Theo Black, fabulous artist, who did a map of Tamora Pierce’s Tortall, also drew me a map for the fictional English town of Unspoken, Sorry-in-the-Vale. It is MOST FANCY, and has things like the Hope Well, and the library, and other streets like Shadowchurch Lane which are in the second book…

And this map will be given out with Unspoken at the signing I have on Sunday at Powell’s, the lovely bookshops where Unspoken is a fall staff favourite!!! And where I will be appearing with other AWESOME LADIES.

Panel: Women in Speculative Fiction for Young Adults

Join us this afternoon for a panelist discussion between five female fantasy writers of novels for young adults. Participants include: Cindy Pon (Silver Phoenix), Mette Ivie Harrison (Tris and Izzie), Sarah Rees Brennan (Unspoken), Malinda Lo (Adaptation), Janni Lee Simner (Bones of Faerie).
Sunday, October 14th @ 2pm Powell’s Books at Cedar Hills Crossing
3415 SW Cedar Hills Blvd. (800) 878-7323

Unspoken is buyabibble from the Powells website or you could come to the signing or call/email the Cedar Hills shop, to make sure your Unspoken comes with map and also a signature and whatever you’d like me to say. (I probably shouldn’t draw pictures, given my lack of artistic SKILLZ, but I will if you really want me to. )

I will add this: The cover of Unspoken is definitely changing for the paperback. I am sorry, as nobody loves that cover more than me, but c’est la vie, and Random House has been awesome to me so far, so I’m thinking the next cover will be lovely too. However, if you like this cover, now’s the time to get it.

In other news, I am interviewed by a very smart lady at tor.com here: Sarah Rees Brennan and Sleeping with Monsters… where I talk about ladies, and writing, and other such things. As is my way. At length. As is my way…

mood: amused

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

Dramatis personae of this saga…

ROBIN WASSERMAN: Golden curls, mind like a cleaver. Occupation–writer and cynic

HOLLY BLACK: Like a Goth Snow White. Wiser than everyone. Occupation–writer

CASSIE CLARE: Redhead, and thus not to be trusted, no matter how great her taste in shoes, jokes or cats. Occupation–writer

THEO BLACK: Looks To Be Determined every day. Once there was a mohawk. Basically a whirlwind of excitement. Occupation–artist

JOSH LEWIS: Beware, hiding sly humour beneath rumpled hair and spectacles. He wears a mask! Occupation–writer

MAUREEN JOHNSON: Hers is the stare of a killer. Occupation–writer who fiends for kittens

So, a bunch of my friends and I, the criminals listed above, were on a writing retreat in the French countryside. Oh it was a beautiful time, full of sunshine and rolling hills and lavender in the garden and orchards where we would scrump for apples. Sometimes we would wear berets while we scrumped apples (Robin did not scrump apples, because that is thieving and she is an honest soul. She did play look-out while I munched on the apples of sin, though). Sometimes we would just wear berets around the house. (We were in FRANCE.)

Sometimes Cassie would scream ‘Help, I’m being tormented by weiners in berets.’

… She was just jealous because she didn’t have cool berets like us.

Now, the Robin mentioned above is a much more active bee than the rest of us. I am content with sitting on a sofa and reading, and occasionally getting so into the reading that I gesture wildly and fall off the sofa with a crash. But Robin would ride her bicycle every morning. Every. Morning.

Sometimes we would go on walks.

… Sometimes Robin would go on walks and I would go on what, in sporting terms, is known as a ‘trip for ice-cream.’ Sometimes we would go together. Beautiful French countryside, beautiful Robin, beautiful ice-cream! Perfect happiness.

This one time we had an adventure. It was all my fault.

But I feel like I can’t be blamed, you know? It was a NATURAL IMPULSE. I am only human. If you cut me, do I not bleed? If you put an adorable leggy kitten in front of me, do I not try to pet it?

It is what I do with cats. I see a kitty, I reach out and go ‘KITTY!’ I have a lot of love to give. To cats.

So, one of those teenage kittens with long legs and still a teeny-tiny body, slinking through some dry yellow fields. I said ‘KITTY!’ and leaped forward without much hope: usually cats rebuff me with scorn. I am like that sleazy guy in the bar who is always striking out with cats: the cats are all ‘Don’t even dream you’re going to pet with this.’

But little grey kitten let me pet her. Pet, pet, pet! She seemed happy with the attention. Then I went and caught up with Robin, flushed with kitty victory.

ROBIN: … Okay, Sarah. Don’t look behind you but…

SARAH: *looks behind her*

SARAH: KITTY!

SARAH: Oh no kitty…

ROBIN: We just have to keep walking. She’ll get bored. Don’t look behind you. She’ll stop following us if we keep walking.

SARAH: Kitty…

ROBIN: Walk faster!

We did walk faster, stealing glances over our shoulders as we went. The kitten was wobbling determinedly along the country path. The kitten, like a fluffy little terminator, just kept coming.

ROBIN: Honey, go home. Honey, please stop.

SARAH: We’ve gone too far now. Robin, you know there’s no going back.

ROBIN: Honey, this is a bad idea. We’re bad ladies.

The kitten was determined on her course.

ROBIN: Sarah, you cannot touch that cat again. Sarah, promise me.

SARAH: Robin, I swear. Robin! You can TRUST me.

… All right, look, it wasn’t my fault.

We were crossing at an intersection. A van was speeding down the road.

KITTEN: Oh look! I must run out to meet my new friend the van!

SARAH: SARAH POUNCE!

ROBIN: Oh Sarah, you promised!

SARAH: I lied. I lied.

Once I carried the kitten across the intersection, though, we were responsible. (ROBIN: LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS SARAH! But I knew she was too soft-hearted to abandon two foolish wandering things that did not know their own way home…)

It took us a long time to walk that two and a half miles home. The kitten occasionally collapsed by the side of the road, mewing and rolling hopefully to see if I would scritch her. She enjoyed trying to make friends with cars, bicycles, trucks and ponies, and then I would snatch her up and press her to my pounding heart.

She was so amenable to being seized and zoomed through the air in my pterodactyl-like clutches that I began to worry she didn’t have claws, but then we met an Alsatian and she went up a thorn tree like tree-climbing lightning. So we figured she did have claws, and then had to work out how to get her down from the thorn tree. I wound up a bit scratched (not by the sweet little kitty, by the sweet little thorn tree). Also on my ass in a ditch.

Robin may have started to laugh at me, a tiny bit. She also stopped saying ‘Honey, don’t’ to the kitten and instead would say ‘Oh, honey’ in a way that indicated the cat’s fate was sealed.

Eventually, we walked through the gates of our holiday home, and found the others. I was trying, as I walked with a cat at my heels, to think of a way to break the news of what I had done gently.

ROBIN: GUYS. GUYS, SARAH SCRUMPED A KITTEN!!!

SARAH: We both sort of–

HOLLY, THEO, CASSIE & JOSH: Seems like something Sarah would do.

That was when our merry band sharply divided. Holly and Josh instantly joined Robin on what we call Team Sensible Actions and Responsible Behaviour.

Cassie and Theo instantly joined me on Team Fiending For Kittens.

HOLLY AND JOSH: Don’t let that kitten in the house! Don’t feed that kitten!

CASSIE AND THEO: Kitty wants to come inside wif us, yes she does! Does kitty want some ham? Kitty loves ham!

HOLLY AND JOSH: Please do not name that cat. That is not our cat.

CASSIE AND THEO: What have you guys been calling the cat?

SARAH: Robin kept calling her honey…

ROBIN: Leave me out of this, this isn’t my fault!

SARAH: Miel is French for honey.

So Robin and I named Miel together, as co-kitten scrumpers should. (It’s possible that she was just the kitten scrumper lookout, but it still counts.) By that evening, full of ham and milk, Miel was curled up with all four legs around Holly’s bare leg.

Aw yis. Life was good.

ROBIN, JOSH AND HOLLY: We must inform our friend Maureen, who is coming to stay, that there will be a STRANGE CAT here.

MAUREEN: A KITTY! I’M COMING KITTY! KITTY!!!!!!! DON’T LET THE KITTY GET AWAY!!!

ROBIN, JOSH AND HOLLY: All right, Team Fiending For Kittens, you win this round.

Miel never used her claws on people. Miel, it was clear from the start, loved people. She followed us from place to place throughout the house, even though she was clearly still tired and still hungry, anxiously as if we were going to go away. Theo, the biggest sweetheart in the place, could not stop feeding her.

Also once she had rested up a bit, she began to play little kitten games. Her favourite was hiding behind a sofa or a wall and waiting, her small pointed ears entirely obvious, to leap out, surprise us and wrap her pad-pawed legs around one of our legs and strut off convinced we had been terrified.

Miel also enjoyed: playing with bits of lavender, and lots of sleeps. Robin always went to bed early, and I always slept in late, so Miel would bed-hop between us: I would wake up in the early morning with a fountain playing outside and a kitten under my chin being like ‘She said she was going for a bicycle ride! Inconceivable! Also, purr!’

Artistic Portrait of Small Cat and Large Birdcage.

However, what we were going to do with Miel was something of a concern. My proposal of living in France forever with the kitten was vetoed because of ‘we have lives, Sarah’ and ‘your French is atrocious, Sarah.’

LANDLADY: We will fix this situation! We’re going to put the kitten out in the road.

SARAH: Madame, I am too indignant to speak French at this time! I SAID GOOD DAY!

I didn’t actually even say that. I just gave her a weird, bug-eyed stare, seized Mel, crushed her to my bosom and ran away at speed. Miel was just like ‘Whee where are we going’ and I hid behind the lavender until the landlady was gone. Cassie had to weakly explain ‘mon ami… elle est fou. Like, totally, totally fou. Quelle fiending for kittens.’

Holly and Cassie then activated their Kitten-Saving Wonder Twins powers, and bent their mind toward kitten rescue. Cassie, Holly and I took Miel to a vet, to see if she was chipped or anything, and had perhaps wandered from home. The vet was of the opinion that Miel was a summer kitten, abandoned when grown less teeny and cute, and said it happened sometimes, especially as she’d clearly not been in the best state when we found her.

… The vet seemed alarmed when I burst into tears and tried to blow my nose on Miel at this tale of woe.

CASSIE: All right, what if we wanted to take the kitten to another country? Ireland or America?

VET: You can’t take the cat to Ireland without a three-week quarantine!

VET: America’s OK though. It’s lawless there. Give the kitten a rabies shot and they just don’t care about quarantines. They have enough to deal with with all the urban crime, and also cowboys.

HOLLY AND CASSIE: …

SARAH: America is an untamed land, it’s so true. The people there, so uncivilised.

HOLLY AND CASSIE: Why you little…

VET: So I’m going to get you guys a tiny kitten passport.

SARAH AND CASSIE: KITTEN PASSPORT THE MOST CUTEST LITTLE PASSPORT-

VET: And I’m going to give Miel a shot-

SARAH AND CASSIE: Look it says Miel on the kitten passport-

HOLLY: Guys, guys I don’t think Miel likes shots-

SARAH AND CASSIE: We’re going to put a little kitten picture in this little kitten passport-

HOLLY: Miel’s about to-

MIEL: I WILL RUIN YOUR LIVES AND BITE THIS VET’S FACE OFF!

SARAH AND CASSIE: It happened with no warning, none at all!

I was very startled by Miel’s sudden turn to the dark side. She bit that vet good and proper. Pro tip: when terrified by your kitten going evil, do not try to hide behind your tiny short friends. They will be no help at all, and if they are redheads, they will laugh at you.

The vet was very understanding about the biting, and also the blood, and also the screaming (that last part was me).

VET: I am a vet, n’est pas? C’est la vie!

SARAH: I love our zen vet!

MIEL: I will kill you all for this indignity…

SARAH: … Cassie, hold me.

CASSIE: Ahahahaha!

SARAH: What’s funny?!

CASSIE: … Your pain.

SARAH: … REDHEADS.

Cassie was brave enough to pick up Miel after her fit of rage, though, so maybe I should quit ragging on redheads. She cuddled Miel down from the cliff of fury and also weighed Miel, and I guessed Miel weighed twice what she actually did. Miel sulked all the way home, either because of the shots or because I said she looked fat.

The vet sold us a kitty carrier and told us we were doing a good thing, though admittedly he seemed puzzled by our passion for the kitty passport. (Passportion?)

Miel did not enjoy the kitty carrier. I am told she did not enjoy it on the way to the airport, either. (I took an earlier flight, and merely received updates. Maureen’s texts informed me that she had to change all of her clothing in an airport bathroom due to Miel. I laughed and laughed, and immediately the plane informed us in a serious voice that there were some issues with the engine but we would be flying anyway. Instant plane karma!)

Miel was going home with Holly and Theo, and our sensible Holly was worried about getting her through customs.

CUSTOMS: Proceed!

HOLLY: We have a cat, in that carrier, but we have a clean bill of health and a little kitty passport, see…

CUSTOMS: Whatevs!

HOLLY: Don’t you want to see the tiny kitty pass-

CUSTOMS: Nope!

THEO: We could have a rabid bat in this carrier for all you know.

CUSTOMS: Do you have a rabid bat in this carrier?

HOLLY: NOPE, NO WE DO NOT.

CUSTOMS: Well, we’ll take your word for it. Proceed!

We’re all a little alarmed by how easy it would be smuggle in a rabid bat. We’re also all a little sad that they didn’t get to use the kitty passport.

I was coming, after the Smart Chicks tour (which was awesome), to do an event with Holly and Libba Bray (which was super awesome!). I was also excited to see Miel again, and hoping she was doing well. For we all had one concern.

This concern was called Lily. Lily is a hairless cat. Holly loves her. She only loves Holly, and nobody else. Holly and Theo have two white cats already–pallid shadows of cats, living in fear of Lily.

Lily is a demon.

Just like that cat.

I arrived at Chez Black, and saw Miel. She was wearing a fleur-de-lis collar that said MIEL on it, because Theo is an artiste. And she had done something amazing to Lily.

LILY: I hate you.

MIEL: HELLO MY NEW NAKED FRIEND.

LILY: I’m going to ruin your life.

MIEL: YOU LOOK COLD. YOU NEED SNUGGLES!

LILY: Only I sleep in the bed with Holly.

MIEL: I’M SO GLAD WE MET. NOW WE SNUGGLE TOGETHER!

LILY: What’s your name, so I can draw it on the litter box when I bury you in a shallow grave?

MIEL: I SHALL CALL YOU BALDY, AND YOU SHALL BE MINE.

Miel, the cat who tries to make friends with vans, wore Lily down. Now Lily the demon cat has a friend! (Just one friend.) They snuggle together! (Lily looks very guilty when caught snuggling. She’s all, ‘It means nothing!’)

I admit I miss Miel, but she continues her career of adventuring and staying close to humans, even if that means snuggling in Holly’s desk drawer.

DESK DRAWER SNUGGLES!

And Miel was there for Unspoken’s release, on September 11. I had already had bad news about Unspoken and a book chain, and I was pretty sure nobody was going to buy my book and I was going to have to change my name. I also had wild plans of running away to sea. (I just need to stow away aboard the ship of a very attractive captain with a heart of gold beneath his gruff exterior, who will be drawn in despite himself by my, uh, quirky charm…) That day, I was so sick with nerves I could barely talk to my friends, but I sat with Miel clutched to my chest in the herb garden, and heard her purr and smelled rosemary and thyme.

Then I went back inside to my friends, who welcomed me with hugs, and Robin and Maureen took me for a walk to town. We had ice-cream and champagne, and managed to not pick up another kitten. (Though if we’d seen another kitten, I’m pretty sure Maureen would have picked it up. Team Fiending For Kittens For Life!) My friends are pretty cool, and so are kittens.

When fate shuts a door, it opens a kitten window. So, thanks for that, fate!

Sorry about that, Holly and Robin. I know the kitten is my fault.

Originally published at Sarah Rees Brennan. You can comment here or there.

So, I think you all know I love the Unspoken cover. And the thing is that before I received it, I didn’t know what ‘cut paper art’ even was, I just kept yapping about shadows and silhouettes and wanting my heroine to be DOING SOMETHING on the cover, and then my editor found Beth White and had a brainwave.

Cut paper art had to be explained to me, is what I’m saying.

LOVELY EDITOR MALLORY: So cut paper is when you do a sketch…
SARAH: Like tracing… yes…
LEM: Sort of, okay, but using black paper beneath.
SARAH: Yes! I understand.
SARAH: … Nope, just kidding, run that by me again.

So I thought it would be fun if Beth White, my cover artist, talked a bit about what she did for you guys!

BETH WHITE, ARTIST EXTRAORDINAIRE!

I begin by asking as many questions as possible as to what the art director is envisioning for the cover. Then I begin researching parts such as the iron gate and and the estate house to get the feel of what I want to draw. With just black and white, it is important to balance intricate detail with more solid black and to position everything just so …especially on the figure. Her face and hands especially need to fall in the negative space but not look contrived. I also tried to give her a sense of urgency and hesitation….wonder and a little fear….by the way she is standing and how her hands are positioned. I hoped that it gives the feeling of that. (SARAH: Yes it super does! Mallory and I had many a conversation about how we wanted Kami of Unspoken on her feet, bent on a mission, because we’d seen a lot of covers with girls who were not *acting*… often who were dead, and we wanted something different.)

You can see more art at
Beth White’s agent’s website.

Holy God, y’all, I implore you to click on this link. There is some BEAUTIFUL STUFF here. So many beautiful things!

I have told you all of the trials of getting Unspoken cover art at all, and how my first cover artist ran away from me!

When I first saw that sketch, I practically burst into tears in an airport. I was quite overcome.

It was like a miracle to get such a beautiful cover: as I’ve said, I know it’s a super risky and different cover for YA, and I am scared stiff about that, but the stores who are behind Unspoken are super behind it (I already bragged about Unspoken being on display in Powell’s), it is AMAZING ART and I feel privileged to have received it.

And I got permission to show you Beth White’s first sketch, and then the cover that resulted!

My editor said ‘Kami wears kitten heels!’ and I said ‘That dude silhouette. More buff. Add jacket.’ (I didn’t think I’d ever sit around objectifying a silhouette, but there you go.) And we both said, BOTH SIDES OF THE GATE ALL LADIES ALL THE TIME.

And that is how the cover of Unspoken, out right now at this time, was made!

I hoped you guys would find it interessante.

Also a couple more reviews of Unspoken! And some dreamcasting

In summary, Beth White is a genius!