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Sarah Rees Brennan

New York Times Bestselling Author of the Demon's Lexicon Trilogy

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Where I’ll Be in March

February 27, 2015 by Sarah

So’s you all know: March cometh! And with it cometh… me!

If you are in New York or Texas, that is.

Places to find me…

MARCH 4, NYC EVENT

with Marie Rutkoski

McNally Jackson Books

New York, NY

6:00 PM

http://mcnallyjackson.com/event/launching-marie-rutkoskis-winners-crime

(We will be launching Marie’s brilliant new book Winner’s Crime! I MIGHT do a skit! If the people WISH for skits.)

MARCH 7

North Texas Teen Book Festival

http://www.northtexasteenbookfestival.com/

Irving Convention Center,
500 W. Las Colinas Blvd.
Irving, TX 75039

10 AM, RM 7, Secondary Education

Exploring the Importance of Secondary Characters: Leigh Bardugo, me, Rae Carson, Tessa Gratton, Sherry Thomas, mod. Karin Perry.

(What a cool line-up! Leigh and I are currently sitting by a pool plotting the terrible things we’re going to say about each others’ secondary characters.)

12 AM, GB EAST, Captivating Fantasies

Exploring Fantastical Worlds, Julie Kagawa, me, Ally Condie, Rae Carson, Tessa Gratton, mod. Jill Bellomy.

2PM, RM 8, Reading the Rainbow

LGBTQ in YA, Importance of. (Very!) David Levithan, Alex London, Lauren Myracle, mod. Teri Lesense

AUTHOR SIGNINGS 3:30 PM

2015 NYC TEEN AUTHOR FESTIVAL

MARCH 18-MARCH 22

Wednesday, March 18 – PANEL

42nd St NYPL, South Court, 6-8

Writing As A Many-Booked Thing

Looking at series and reader response (SUPER INTERESTING!)

Dahlia Adler, me, Barry Lyga, Michelle Hodkin, Seth Fishman, Marie Rutkoski, Amy Nichols, mod. David Levithan.

Books of Wonder Mega-Signing

Sunday, March 22, 1:30 PM

http://nyctaf.com/

And just so this post isn’t a total disappointfest for those not in NYC or Texas, I did put up a wee snippet from the sequel to The Turn of the Story (Wings in the Morning from Elliot’s PoV) on tumblr, so if you did not catch it here it is…

“Elliot!” Dale screamed. “Stop!”

“What?” Elliot asked defensively. “I’m just making a scheme for your future happiness. You don’t want to be happy in the future? What’s your objection to the future? What’s your objection to happiness?”

“I don’t have an objection to happiness,” Dale said. “It’s just—Luke.”

“You have an objection to Luke?” Elliot snapped. “What possible objection could there be to Luke? He’s smart—and he’s champion—and he’s radiantly good-looking–”

“He’s great,” said Dale.

Elliot frowned. “Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Dale gave Elliot a look that said he was surrendering when Elliot was not aware they were fighting a battle. Many people seemed to approach conversations with Elliot this way, so he shrugged it off and gestured for Dale to speak.

“He’s just a little—”

“Constantly eternally insistently in your face twenty-four seven?” Elliot cut in sympathetically.

“… distant?” said Dale.

“Well, obviously we’re having a slightly different Luke Experience,” said Elliot. He folded his arms and regarded Dale, who seemed dispirited. It could simply be an effect of prolonged conversation with Elliot, but in case it was not Elliot added encouragingly: “Luke is shy! That’s the problem. He’s shy because he likes you so much. It’s beautiful if you think about it. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

He regarded Dale sternly. Dale nodded.

“Good,” said Elliot. “Good.”

“It’s really nice of you to go to all this trouble,” Dale offered, after a moment. “I mean… you’re really nice. Knowing you care that much… about me… is nice.”

“Ahahaha,” said Elliot. “Sure. And if you follow all the details of my plot carefully, everybody will be happy forever. Won’t that be nice? Now, remember we don’t know each other.”

“Luke knows that we know each other—”

“But we can’t know each other too well!” Elliot warned.

Dale did not look ready for this level of subterfuge.

Elliot gave up on a soothing tone, and patted Dale’s (second-most muscular in the Border camp, hello) arm instead. “Everything is going to go great, provided you do exactly what I want.”

He sensed a presence at his side, glanced in that direction and found himself staring at a dead rabbit.

“Aaaaagh!” said Elliot.

“I’m gonna go,” said Dale, and ran.

The dead rabbit, hanging at eyelevel, regarded Elliot with a glazed regard. Elliot eventually pulled his gaze away from the creature and looked to the harpy who had alit on the grassy bank beside Elliot and who was holding her prey aloft with what seemed to be pride.

“This is for you,” she told him.

“Oh,” said Elliot. “How kind. How did you guess that I love… dead things?”

She inclined her head. He could make out the actual pattern of feathers in her hair: it was so fascinating. He found himself smiling with reflexive admiration, even in the presence of dead rabbits. Then he wondered what smiles meant to harpies, when some had human-looking mouths and some had beaks. Surely the greater variety made for a greater range of expression. He wondered if he could ask.

“I caught it myself,” the harpy told him.

Elliot appreciated the harpies’ efforts to bond across the species divide and make this treaty work. He wished she had approached someone else, as even after years on this side of the Border he felt queasy around dead uncooked animals. The rabbit dangled, swaying slightly from side to side. Elliot averted his eyes from its hypnotic swing.

“I am one million per cent genuinely impressed,” he said firmly. “You’re Podarge, aren’t you? Celaeno mentioned that you were an expert gardener. I would be so interested to learn the differences and similarities between human and harpy methods. You seem like the ideal person to talk to. If you would care to share your expertise.”

Podarge ducked her head and blushed, color rising around her beak. “If you really want me to.”

Oh. Oh, Elliot understood why he had been brought a dead animal. He brightened up.

“I do,” he said. “Would it be forward of me to add that I really like your hair?”

“I like your hair!” said Podarge. “I can see it from leagues up in the sky.”

“You sure can,” said Elliot. “Like a small localised forest fire, and up until this moment I thought of it as just about as disastrous.”

Luke’s heritage was great, he thought, and forays to make treaties were great, and he, Elliot, might be about to get a girlfriend who could fly! A flying girlfriend! He could not wait to tell Serene.

Then he saw Celaeno and Luke approach. Normally, he would have been pleased to see Luke and his aunt (his flying aunt!) but at this precise moment he felt he could have done without them. He tried to make a subtle gesture to Luke to go away. Luke squinted and frowned at him.

“You have feathers in your hair.”

“Yeah, they get all over, I’ve just learned to accept it,” said Elliot, as Luke came over, pulled the feathers out and threw them on the ground. “Or not.”

Celaeno looked at Elliot, Podarge and the rabbit. She had a somewhat severe air about her at all times, but it was increased enormously now. She looked at the dead rabbit as if it had wronged her family.

“Podarge, a word in the air, if you would.”

Podarge jumped at the tone of command—literally jumped into the air, so she and the bunny swiftly became nothing more than a speck against the clouds.

Elliot could not work out where it had all gone wrong.

“That was my dead creature,” he said forlornly. “It was for me.”

“Yeah, you’re hilarious and what you told Commander Woodsinger was so believable,” Luke muttered.

Luke had now referred to something that Elliot had told Commander Woodsinger about fourteen times. Elliot could not imagine what he meant, and Elliot was really starting to worry he’d told the commander something ludicrous, like that he wouldn’t cause any trouble. He also didn’t know why Luke thought he was currently making a joke.

Things did not look good in the awesome flying girlfriend department. Possibly Celaeno thought that human and harpy mingling would be detrimental to the treaty. Elliot sighed wistfully. He did not want to do anything that would damage the treaty.

“Did you get on well with Celaeno,” he asked, poking Luke. “Tell me you didn’t say anything stupid. No, wait, it’s you: tell me you didn’t say anything too stupid.”

Luke did not look mildly irritated, as he usually would have. He looked tired, and he still had that certain air of low-lying anger which had hung around him like a shadow since his mother had told him the truth, and which Elliot had never seen on him before.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice heavy. “She said stuff about… my wings. I don’t think she knew what she was talking about.”

“She does have a pair of her own, though,” Elliot pointed out.

Luke gave him a dark look. “She gave me a skull to drink out of.”

“Oh, loser, tell me you respected her traditions and drank out of her skull!”

Luke sat down on the bank and ran his hand through his hair, then stayed with his head bowed and his hand in his hair, as if he’d wanted to put his head in his hands but did not want to betray that level of vulnerability.

“I drank out of her skull,” he said. “I tried to be polite. I wish all of this was over and we were going home.”

This was not good. Elliot thought about Serene saying: We all take care of each other, and I take the best care of Luke. She was right. He knew she was right. But she wasn’t here.

“I think Dale went that way,” Elliot tempted him.

Luke did not respond to this offered treat.

Elliot offered a different treat. “I think Serene is practising with a couple of other cadets and a longbow in the woods!”

Luke did not go off to excel at physical activities. Luke chose to sit in the dirt, because that was a super fun time.

“Do you want to hear about the significance of the dead and the attitude to mortality in harpy culture?”

Luke lifted his head for just long enough to give Elliot a baleful stare, then dropped it. “Of course I don’t.”

The autumn sun streamed down on the grassy bank, on Luke’s bent golden head and hunched broad shoulders. The stream of sunlight was broken by the moving dark, the fluttering shadows cast by the leaves and the wheeling, moving shadows cast by the harpies high above, their presence disrupting the whole sky.

“So leave,” Elliot suggested, settling himself on the bank. “Go find something more fun to do, because I’m going to talk about it.”

“Can I stop you,” Luke muttered.

He could, actually: he could have belted Elliot across the mouth to shut him up, which had been done before, though the idea of Luke doing it was so ridiculous Elliot found it quite funny. He could have surrendered like Dale or just given up and walked away. But it had been four years now, and he hadn’t: so Elliot’s priorities were first Luke, then the treaty, and a long, tragic way back, flying girlfriends.

This was not the hilarious situation Elliot had originally believed it was. Luke was upset, in a new and disturbing way. If it meant delivering Dale on a plate, carrying through peace with the harpies singlehanded, or just filling in the time until Serene returned and was able to comfort him in ways Elliot had never learned, they were going to get through this.

“Listen up, moron,” Elliot said, tenderly. “There are some things you should know.”

I hope to see some of your faces soon! I have been writing LOTS in Mexico and will at the slightest opportunity tell people all about all the stories I’m planning.

(Or there’s always skits.)

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The rarely seen baths and puffy coats picture! ...

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The rarely seen baths and puffy coats picture! Gellért thermal baths and its Art Nouveau decor, only one of the aquatic delights offered by Budapest. We also saw the Parlament from a trip down the Danube river. My brother & sister put up with me mentioning Jonathan and Mina Harker of #Dracula got married in Budapest, and my insisting on eating chicken paprika like Jonathan. That and soup in a bread bowl comforted me when I was made to walk 300 steps at the Basilika and even more around Buda Castle while protesting I am a potato who sits on the sofa and writes the novels. Budapest was beautiful and so was seeing it with my sibs: I will remember this trip a long time. #draculadaily #budacastle #gellertbaths #danuberiver #ststephensbasilica #hungary🇭🇺

Writing to you live from Budapest! My gorgeous ...

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Writing to you live from Budapest! My gorgeous little sister surprised me with the amazing birthday present of a city break - and our baby bro came too. This is us at Szimpla Kert, the original of Budapest’s ruin bars: repurposed dilapidated buildings, filling old places with plants and art and music. More from Budapest soon… #szimplakert #budapest #ruinbar #bettyandbiddy

With changes over on twitter, I see many people ...

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With changes over on twitter, I see many people stressing over where and how they can talk up their writing and art. It reminded me of the difficulty I’ve had talking about a project dear to me. I’d see other writers talking about their word count or their plans, and be lime green jelly that I couldn’t, because it was so dear that talking about it felt weighted, because I didn’t have any confidence after being sick, because hope and fear pin down the tongue and keys. There are always challenges when talking about art, whether they come from within or without. But I do believe one of the hardest and most necessary things is to make art with faith it will speak to people when the time comes. So I wanted to put this up here as a way to say: be hopeful, fearful and courageous with your voice. When you can. The time will come. #authorsofinstagram #writing #sarahreesbrennan #srbrennan

Well beloved fairy folk and fans, I know you got ...

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Well beloved fairy folk and fans, I know you got sad news last week and I am so sorry! I also know @straffiiginio and Rainbow do have glorious plans for much in the Winx franchise. For now, I offer signed books as a little comfort! @Soraseilyn, @dutchwinxer and @blindchannxl on Insta, and ladygeeke & subtle-skipping on tumblr, please email me sarahreesbrennan at gmail to collect your winnings. My other cat (about whom more soon!) has been guarding them for you. For myself, I feel lucky to have been part of the journey to Alfea, to write fun books with great characters and to get to know you all: you’ve been so welcoming and kind to me. Thank you and I hope we stay friends. Who knows what is to come? 💕🧚#winxclubforever #fatethewinxsaga #abigailcowen #bloompeters #winxstella

For the end of spooky season! Cancer is about ...

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For the end of spooky season! Cancer is about loss: of hair, teeth, friends… and words. For a couple years before I was diagnosed with late stage lymphoma, I watched my writing go off a cliff in terms of quality and speed - sentences turned to nonsense, and I couldn’t finish anything. It was terrifying. So was trying to come back to writing and publishing after having a traumatic time with chemo. ‘Where was she last year?’ ‘Who’s that again?’ ‘Oh, I thought you were…’ My confidence was shattered, and being approached for Sabrina was a life raft to cling to: being remembered, having fun with writing again, falling for a wild strange fantasy world. It opened the door to other worlds I was honored to be invited into, their lovely fandoms, and to courage that I could perhaps write my own books again. Here’s #chillingadventuresofsabrina and #fatethewinxsaga in Feltrinelli in Rome, and me, because fantasy opens all the escape doors. Happy All Hallows’ Day, and hope you had a great #Hallowinx and you find the doors you’re hoping for 👻🖤. #feltrinelli #romeitaly #cancersurvivor #writersofinstagram #writing #fencecomic

I see many photos where the ‘after’ shows ...

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I see many photos where the ‘after’ shows someone thinner than the ‘before.’ Here’s a different version. When I’m feeling vulnerable, I cover it with jokes. ‘Hey, at least I was skinny!’ ‘Dr: Any unexplained weight loss? Me: I wish!’ It’s safer than saying: When people were telling me I looked great, I felt lousy, scared, and sad they thought I looked better when I felt worse. Once I was in recovery people kept telling me how bad I’d looked. That doesn’t help either. We all have uncomfortable relationships with our bodies, because of society, ideas about what health is, and the fact our outside self is all most people can perceive of us! I was diagnosed late: I kept being told it was bronchitis, pneumonia, a kiwi allergy (that one was weird…), I’d be fine, I was clearly healthy. I often think about what my life, relationships and health would be like if I was diagnosed earlier, if people hadn’t assumed I was lying and secretly dieting or exercising a lot. But I get why they did: I get why I didn’t want it to be a warning sign. Weight is a weighted topic. I wish it wasn’t, for all of us. I love and find beautiful (not that my opinion matters) people of a hundred shapes and sizes, but we always have the most tangled relationship to our own bodies. The body is a vessel that carries us through our lives. If we’re happy with however that vessel looks, I think that’s awesome—but sometimes positivity is difficult. Here are 2 full-length pictures of me, during chemo and a couple years after. Honestly, I’m not happy with how I look in either. But in one, I’m trapped at home with medicines around me. In the other, I’m outside with my sister, on her wedding day. In the end, it’s about where the vessel takes you. #twweightloss #cancersurvivor #wedding #twweighttalk #milestonecountdown

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