Last week, in the midst of commencement season, small L.A. video production company The Glossary released a five-minute cinematic interpretation of David Foster Wallace’s philosophically resonant 2005 commencement address at Kenyon College.

The original speech, called “This is Water,” made its rounds online via transcripts and audio recordings and is only now going viral, eight years after its delivery and five years after Wallace’s death.

Excerpting half of the 22-minute speech, the film remains loyal to the author’s central message: While we cannot necessarily control how adult life unfurls, we can choose how we process our experiences.

The filmmakers take few creative liberties. Basically, they edited Wallace’s audio and had actors play out the scenes the writer describes much the same way Ken Burns might do a video reenactment. Hand-drawn graphics highlight the text’s most salient phrases.

In just over a week, the video has 4.2 million hits on YouTube and counting. The original unedited versions – posted at random by various Wallace enthusiasts – have never broken 30,000.

So why the sudden interest?

Do people really need an easy-to-digest, heavily-abbreviated visual demonstration of a somewhat ruminative thesis in order to appreciate its message?

Given the video’s precipitous popularity, the answer is an unambiguous “yes.” And the film’s producers seem to have known that.

The bare bones of the audio recording didn’t take off, and thus the film’s director Matt Freidell told Adweek that “a short film seemed the perfect way [for it to reach] a wider audience.”

The fact that the film uses attractive, young actors and funky MTV-style graphic elements to animate the speech’s most depressing moments is bound to have added to the film’s virality. The graduation season release didn’t hurt YouTube numbers, either.

It is as if the filmmakers heeded Wallace’s warning that “large parts of adult American life … [involve] boredom, routine and petty frustration.” Their effort tries to minimize this reality by making the writer’s speech as compelling as conceivably possible.

Compare the commencement speech video (below) to DFW’s uncut original address and decide which one you like better.

This is the reinterpretation that has gone viral.

And here’s the original:

The post Why David Foster Wallace’s Commencement Speech Went Viral appeared first on LitStack.

Like many of us, I read Fitzgerald’s classic in high school and didn’t enjoy the novel, at all. I didn’t enjoy it, not because I was forced to read the novel, but because I didn’t like the story and the characters. Daisy was so superficial and vapid, and I felt Gatsby was just a loser. Tom is an huge jerk (and I’m being nice) and Nick is follower who lacks a backbone. A book filled with so many unpleasant characters makes for an uncompelling story.

It is with those thoughts in mind that I flip-flopped on going to see Baz Lurhman’s adaptation. See, the thing is I love Baz’s films, specifically his Red Curtain series. I knew he would do his best to capture the spectacle of Fitzgerald’s world and that the film would be gorgeous, full of color and fantastical visions.

And I was right. The Great Gatsby is a beautiful film. The sets, the costumes, the graphics and special effects used, Baz’s camera movements that create such an fantastical film, were perfect. It is truly a visually stunning film. From a writer’s standpoint, Baz does a unique trick with the narration where the words, at times, float, fall, appear, cross the screen. This technique highlighted the beauty of the language from the novel and my heart soared at all those little moments. Lurhman also pulls some amazing performances from the actors, specifically Leonardo DiCaprio. Both men actually managed to do what Fitzgerald couldn’t – I actually cared about Gatsby. My eyes actually got misty at the end.

All of that love aside, I still did not like the story and that I feel is what may hamper the success of the film. No matter how one adapts a novel, how visually amazing a director may make it, if the story is lacking, there is no way to make it better. I enjoyed the visuals of the movie, but hated the story. Hence, why my reaction to the story is mixed. I can’t fully say I loved the movie because I still hated the story.

In the end, I neither hated nor loved The Great Gatsby.   I’d recommend for folks to see Gatsby on the big screen, if only to see the spectacle and feel the fantasy that Lurhman creates. Will I see the movie again? most likely. Will I buy the DVD? Very likely.

The post A Gatsby Convert? appeared first on LitStack.

I truly enjoy writing book reviews, but I enjoy reading them, too.  My favorite part of the Sunday newspaper is the spread dedicated to book reviews, and often I end up heading over to the website of my local library with paper in hand, to place a request for at least one title that was reviewed that week.  Of course I follow what is offered on LitStack very closely, and I’m constantly amazed at the fun and informative features that Editor-In-Chief Tee Tate rolls out on a daily basis, and I get quite a few recommendations from the others reviewers here – good folks, all.  I follow a few other literary websites, too, and receive newsletters from a couple of the publishing houses that I admire.  I’m always looking for information on new books, whether from other websites, friends, authors promoting colleagues, even “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report” (amazingly, they often have authors as guests, and I really enjoy seeing how the authors promote their own work).

Sometimes I will check other reviews of a book I have been selected to review, although I don’t do this often because I don’t want to potentially influence what I have to say with someone else’s thoughts.  Occasionally I get a book to review that has won many awards or major accolades, and those I feel warrant a bit more research.  Research generally leads me to some really interesting author interviews, and sometimes I will run across analyses of those works that point out elements that had never occurred to me.

But I tend to stay away from other publications’ reviews.  In fact, I’ve found that often when I read reviews in newspapers or periodicals of “high reputation,” sometimes I have to wonder just when the review is going to start!  Critics will spend paragraphs taking us down a road, via anecdote, historical account or scholarly analogy, that meanders far away from the book that is supposedly being reviewed, coming to some salient point only after:  1) demonstrating great (perceived) wit, 2) deigning to share knowledge bordering on megalomania, 3) seeing how many high falutin’ words can be fit into one sentence, or  4) regaling the reader with stories rife with insider innuendo and name dropping.  Sometimes I have to wonder if I’m really reading a book review, or if someone instead slipped a self-aggrandizing  essay in its place, undetected by an overworked copy editor and non-existent typesetter.

I figure if I can’t detect an actual review within four paragraphs, then it’s not really worth my time reading it.  (I’ve honestly read reviews that never seem to really give any information on the targeted book at all, which feels like a cheat.) That made me stop and think – what thought processes go into my own reviews?   Do I have a certain pattern that I follow, or precepts that I hold to, when I post a review here at LitStack?  Is there some kind of signature that I fall into, that would tell someone “Oh, Sharon wrote that one!”, even if there was no by-line on the article?

Without spending a lot of time on metrics, or becoming too analytical, and not pausing at all to vet my process (if I truly have one), I think I’ve identified a few values that I at least attempt to maintain when I write a review.  While not following a set formula (I try to let the book dictate the direction of my review) there are points that I work hard at making.  I come at those points from the position of one who has looked for those same points in other reviews and either found them lacking in poor reviews, or found them in spades in extremely helpful ones.  Those points include:

1) Express fairly early on a genre, or genre relation, or lack thereof, of the book being reviewed.  Many folks, even the most avid of readers, prefer certain genres or know that they are not really drawn to others.  I, myself, am not enamored of romance novels.  This does not mean that romance novels are bad, and I readily admit that I’ve read some really kick ass romance novels.  They simply are not normally my cup of tea.  If I am reading a review, and find out that a book is at its heart a harlequin romance, I’d like to know that up front, so I can continue reading only if the review highlights contents, characters or settings that are extremely conducive to holding my interest despite the romance element.  Yes, that’s a highly subjective vantage point, but isn’t that part of what a review is all about?

2) Lead into the book, but don’t give away the entire plot.  I often will spend more time outlining what happens at the onset of a novel and then highly generalize the rest of the book; I do this consciously.  I want to draw the reader in enough to get them hooked, and then let them explore on their own.  While I do want to go beyond a publicity blurb summary of the book, I don’t want to take away any of the sense of discovery that lies within almost every good book I’ve read.  I try never, ever to reveal a major plot development (hint, perhaps, but not reveal) because I don’t think a review should merely outline the book – it should give impressions of its merit, wherever those may be found.

3) Always focus on the book itself.  If I have an anecdote to apply to my review, I do my best to keep it short, and make sure it applies specifically to the book being reviewed.  People are very busy nowadays – they want to know if the book is going to be interesting to them first and foremost; if it is, they will keep reading.  If it’s not, they’ll move on.  If someone does move on without reading one of my reviews, I sure hope it’s because they’ve determined they aren’t interested in that book, not because they’ve lost interest with my own meandering.  Authors deserve at least that.

4) Include at least one quote from the book.  Often, I wish I had more space to quote more extensively, because I think the author’s voice is one of the most unique and compelling elements of any literary work.  World-building, characterizations, well defined plots and such are all vitally important, yes, but if you can give the gist of a writer in a short quote, then that is a lovely glimpse to give the reader beyond my own subjective opinion.  Sometimes including a short and applicable quote is not possible – some authors defy having snippets of their work evoking the whole – but when it can be done, it shall be done.

5) Accentuate the positive without side-stepping the negative.  I don’t ever think it’s necessary to tear down a work or an author in any given review (although you take me out for coffee or a few beers and you might hear an earful!), but I also don’t think that a review should sugarcoat the perception of glaring errors in the execution of any work.  I do try to temper any negatives I have, due to the realization that often what does not work for me may be just fine for someone else.  My negatives tend to be of the “I did notice…” or “I did have problems with… ” or “I did struggle with….” ilk, but those are usually followed by a “but” to balance out direct criticisms. Not always, but usually.  I mean, gee whiz, folks – I genuinely feel that someone who has had the time, energy, perseverance, courage, and dedication to write a book deserves some credit, often heaps of it.  So if on the very rare occasion when I truly, honestly don’t like a book at all, due to what I perceive as shortcomings in the writing, I simply won’t write a review of it.  My reviews are meant to inform, not tear down, and should something be abhorrent enough to me to not want to share it – then I won’t.  End of story.

Bottom line, I am truly, deeply, and humbly honored to be able to share my thoughts about books with anyone who may read my reviews.  I take every review I write very seriously, hoping that it will help an author reach another reader – that truly is the icing on the cake and the dark chocolate raspberry ganache in the cupcake for me.  So “thank you” to each and every one of you who reads a review I’ve written, and a whopping huge “kudos” to all those amazing authors who write the books I am lucky enough to review.  I hope you find my reviews helpful, ’cause that’s what it’s all about!

The post Gimbling in the Wabe – A Peek Inside My Thoughts on Reviewing Books appeared first on LitStack.

Neil Gaiman has explained that he really wants to terrify fans should he write another story of Doctor Who, feeling that Nightmare in Silver didn’t quite deliver on that front.

Speaking about the pros and cons of returning he said:

On the one hand I don’t have time to write Doctor Who. It doesn’t pay very well, but you also have to rewrite it and rewrite it and rewrite it and never get paid, whereas in America you get paid for every rewrite… And there are lots of things including movies, novels, an HBO series that I should be doing…

On the other hand I haven’t done an episode set on Earth yet, and I haven’t created a new monster. And there’s part of me that feels… I haven’t scared anybody yet.

‘The BBC website used to mark out of ten how scary an episode would be [Fear Factor]. The Doctor’s Wife was probably only a 2, maybe a 3. The Cybermen has a few little scary bits but it’s running at about a 5 or 6. I’d love to a 9. I’d love to do something that sends adults behind the sofa too and makes them wee. Pools of wee.”

The post Neil Gaiman is Eager To Frighten Doctor Who Fans appeared first on LitStack.

Here’s more information on this outstanding project:

In conjunction with Galileo Games, and using the talents of some truly incredible professionals, our Ministry Kickstarter is off and running.

In the next month we need to raise $20,000 so that we can launch a brand new anthology and a role-playing game. Check out our offerings, and specials, and please help spread the word on your various social networks. This is a huge project, but we are excited to be finally setting forth on it.

Galileo Games and Imagine That! Studios have teamed up to bring you an ambitious steampunk project! The Ministry Initiative is a two-part creative endeavor that will not only premiere new fiction from the steampunk world of the Ministry but also present a brand new role playing game from the makers of Bulldogs! and the ENnie Award winning game Shelter in Place. Thrill to the tales in The Ministry Protocol, or join in as an Agent in The Ministry Initiative.

Source

The post MINISTRY PROTOCOL Kickstarter appeared first on LitStack.

Of course, sometimes film makers get it right. Sometimes they come pretty close to perfect and as book lovers, we like to think it’s because they understand the importance of that heart filling the screen.

This week, our staff picks concern the best and worst film adaptations of our favorite books. Be sure to tell us your choices in the comments. We want to hear from you!

The post LitStaff Pick: Film Adaptations We Love and Those We Hate appeared first on LitStack.

The Center for the Study of Science Fiction at the University of Kansas has revealed the 2013 finalists for the John W. Campbell Memorial Award for the best novel of the year.

Nominees for the John W. Campbell Memorial Award:

• The Hydrogen Sonata, by Iain M. Banks
• Any Day Now, by Terry Bisson
• Existence, by David Brin
• The Rapture of the Nerds, by Cory Doctorow and Charles Stross
• Empty Space, by M. John Harrison
• Intrusion, by Ken MacLeod
• Railsea, by China Miéville
• The Fractal Prince, by Hannu Rajaniemi
• Blue Remembered Earth, by Alastair Reynolds
• Jack Glass: The Story of a Murderer, by Adam Roberts
• 2312, by Kim Stanley Robinson
• Slow Apocalypse, by John Varley
• Alif the Unseen, by G. Willow Wilson

The Campbell Award is one of the major annual awards for science fiction. The first Campbell Award was presented at the Illinois Institute of Technology in 1973. Since then the Award has been presented in various parts of the world: at California State University at Fullerton; at St. John’s College, Oxford; at the World SF Writers Conference in Dublin; in Stockholm; at the World SF meeting in Dublin again; the University of Kansas; and in a joint event with the SFRA Convention in Kansas City in 2007.

Since 1979, the Campbell Award has been presented during the Campbell Conference at the University of Kansas in Lawrence, Kansas, as the focal point of a weekend of discussions about the writing, illustration, publishing, teaching, and criticism of science fiction.

The Award was created to honor the late editor of Astounding Science Fiction magazine, now named Analog. Campbell, who edited the magazine from 1937 until his death in 1971, is called by many writers and scholars the father of modern science fiction. Writers and critics Harry Harrison and Brian W. Aldiss established the award in Campbell’s name as a way of continuing his efforts to encourage writers to produce their best possible work.

The Campbell Award differs from most other major awards in the field by being restricted to the novel and by its method of selection. The Hugo Awards are voted on by some thousand of the several thousand members who attend the World Science Fiction Convention, which meets annually at different locations on Labor Day weekend. The Nebula Awards are voted on by some hundred of the nearly three thousand members of the Science Fiction Writers of America and presented at the annual Nebula Award meeting usually held late in the Spring.

The Campbell Award is selected by a committee small enough to discuss among its members all of the nominated novels. The current jury consists of Gregory Benford, Paul Di Filippo, Sheila Finch, James Gunn, Elizabeth Anne Hull, Paul Kincaid, Christopher McKitterick, Pamela Sargent, and T.A. Shippey.

The Award will be presented Friday, June 14, at the Campbell Conference, held at the Oread Hotel in Lawrence, Kansas, June 14-16, 2014.

The post 2013 Finalists for the John W. Campbell Memorial Award appeared first on LitStack.

In 1954, when Rowland Emett made his first trip to the U.S., Americans dubbed him the British Rube Goldberg—but the comparison wasn’t exactly correct.

Goldberg was the cartoonist known for contraptions that executed mundane tasks through a series of intricate steps (like “The Self-Operating Napkin,” or “Putting a Cat Out at Night), and whose popularity made “Rube Goldberg” a stock term for the unnecessarily complex. Emett, though similarly grounded in art and engineering, applied a knowledge of mechanics and sense of the ethereal to objects that were intentionally inefficient, and if they never operated in a systematic, orderly fashion, so much the better.

from “New World for Nellie”

With a lineage that included a great-grandfather who was court engraver to Queen Victoria, and an inventor father, Emett was well poised to merge his eclectic talents: he wrote and illustrated over fifteen books, created dozens of kinetic sculptures and designed set productions. In a canny move, he rarely sold any of his works, but instead contracted them out on lease, which provided a steady income, and allowed for the freedom to tinker in his blacksmith shop/studio near his beloved Wild Goose Cottage in Sussex.

During that first visit to the States , Emett was on assignment for LIFE Magazine to record his impressions of the country in a series titled “Famous Cartoonist Takes Friendly Look at the U.S.A.” At the time, he was an art star in England—for decades he’d been a preeminent cartoonist at the iconic magazine Punch, and had also published numerous books, but it was his role as featured designer at the 1951 Festival of Britain that brought him far wider recognition. Approached by the government to create an exhibit that would “raise the spirits and aspirations of a weary nation,” Emett and his team of builders produced the Far Tottering and Oyster Creek Railway, an imaginary out of time railway line. Built at the Festival’s Battersea site, the attraction featured working rail cars that were impeccably made, and true to Emett’s style, eccentric in design. The engines and cars were embellished with musical instruments, kitchen gadgets and parlor curios, and their popularity far exceeded expectations. Before Battersea, Emett was famous as a cartoonist, but after he was in demand as the artist who made odd machines.

One of the most popular engines at the Festival was Nellie, a spirited engine with an appealingly cobbled-together look, and the following year, Emett published a book for children that featured her exploits, Nellie Come Home. The book was a success, and by the time Emett arrived in the U.S., he’d adapted the story for American audiences as New World for Nellie.

The tale follows the steam engine and her crew who occupy Duckwallow Marsh in a forgotten corner of England. Engineered by Albert Funnel and “guard-fireman-and-porter” Frederick Firedoor, Nellie makes daily runs to market and the seaside, but due to wildflower picking and frequent stops for cow crossings, the line runs perpetually late. When the locals complain, the crew feels unappreciated and decides to seek their fortune elsewhere. With the aid of a few spare railway signals, some grey goose feathers and a pair of overalls, Albert and Frederick transform Nellie to a flying machine and set off for parts unknown. Eventually, they touch down on an elevated railway in New York City, where as it happens, the timbre of Nellie’s whistle is the precise note a symphonic maestro has been seeking for his orchestral score, and so begins a series of American adventures in which Nellie comes into her own.

From “Nellie Come Home”

In Emett’s world, metal seams are always hobnailed, joinery is fastened with spare wire, spectacles are cracked, and knitted cardigans will almost always sport a length of wool unraveling at the edge.

The illustrations in Nellie, done in ink and pale watercolor wash, are typical of Emett’s technique and suggest the Victorian illustrations he admired. His style, which is both whimsical and gothic, has been compared to George Cruickshank, the English engraver and caricaturist who illustrated Dickens’ original Oliver Twist. Emett’s line work is famously spidery and imperfect, flecked with splatters that occur when a metal pen nib catches the grain of heavy drawing stock. Like his contemporary Saul Steinberg, Emett references the materials and process of art-making, but his preoccupations extend to an interest in machines and the notion of mechanical soundness—or a lack of it. In Emett’s world, metal seams are always hobnailed,

joinery is fastened with spare wire, spectacles are

cracked and knitted cardigans will almost always sport a length of wool unraveling at the edge.

In a midcentury era obsessed with the future, with science and streamlining and efficiency experts, Emett’s retrograde creations gleefully ran against the grain.

It is as though Emett, who understood the mechanics of pretty much any device, was not so much interested in efficiency as he was the possibilities and states of deterioration. This interest in fallibility, in error and imperfection, runs in equal proportion to a sense of nostalgia for the non-electric, unmechanized world he was born into. In this, steam engines of course figure largely. In 1906, the year of Emett’s birth, the Light Railways Act brought construction of cheap rail travel to rural England, though the lines that proliferated were mostly unprofitable, with cars that were second-hand, usually patched, and often rebuilt with spare parts. The rail lines were short, no more than a few miles, and a blanket restriction of 25 mph kept them provincial and “tottering.” By the 1960s, the lines were mostly gone, lost to the efficiency and cost cutting reports of Britain’s Railway Ministry, but the feeling for time and place captured in Emett’s work is as finely developed as his engineering skills.

As it turned out, both Nellie the engine and the Far Tottering O.C.R.R. were as popular in the States as they were in England. In a midcentury era preoccupied with the future, with science and streamlining and efficiency experts, Emett’s retrograde creations gleefully ran against the grain. Borrowing the objects, occupations, and interests of a disappearing world, Emett used these as bits in an extravagant visual language, one that must have been comforting to certain audiences in America and England. Imagine walking into your village bookshop in 1952 and seeing the cover of The Forgotten Tramcar and Other Drawings (right beside Emett’s Home Rails Preferred) with its lonely rail track and single car tethered by pulleys. At the time, Emett’s meandering steam engines and gently disobedient characters must have spoken choruses to those at the periphery of the conformist and insecure postwar fifties.

This fringe sensibility was perfect for the counterculture era to come, but Emett never aligned himself with any social or artistic movement. He continued making what he called “Things,” expanding the applications to ever newer ideas, and continuing to resist progress while mildly lampooning it. For example, the Vintage Car of the Future (1972), features cut-glass decanter fog lamps and a speedometer that gauges not miles per hour, but runs from Nought, to Gently, to AWFUL. In 1973, Emett was commissioned to build The Rhythmical Time-Fountain or Aqua Horological Tintinnabulator, a water-powered clock, though time is the least of matters. Technically, the device does include a working timepiece, though it’s upstaged by a colossal copper flower that, on the hour, opens its petals to reveal an array of bejeweled creatures—quail, tree squirrels, frogs—that twirl on a wheeled base as they hold aloft their french horns, lutes, and lyres. Emett’s reach also extended to Hollywood, where as production designer for Ian Fleming’s Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang, he created the inventions for the eccentric protagonist Caractacus Potts.

Emett was not the first British artist to design eccentric machines. He was preceded by W. Heath Robinson, a classically trained illustrator-turned-cartoonist who poked fun at “modern” living through his drawings of elaborate, unnecessary systems. Like Goldberg, Robinson was immensely popular for excessive diagramming of simple tasks, like “How to Make a Garden Grow” and “How to be a Motorist.” Robinson’s devices, grounded as they were in 19th century mechanics, were powered by kettles, candles, and complex arrays of pulleys and knotted twine. Emett knew of Heath Robinson’s work and may have been influenced by him, though what sets the two apart is more than fifty years and the rise and fall of the rail system. Emett’s drawings served as designs for constructions that were actually built, while Robinson’s were not. But just as Rube Goldberg’s name in America became synonymous with excess complexity, a “Heath Robinson” stood for the same in England. Meanwhile, Emett, whose name never came to stand for anything besides himself, worked in a blacksmith’s forge in Sussex constructing his quirky devices. Though as he intended, none of them were very practical.

For more visit the Rowland Emett Society, here.

One animator’s appreciation of Emett.

The post Rowland Emett’s Backward-looking Vision appeared first on LitStack.

Middle grade fiction author Crystal Allen has recently released her second novel entitled The Laura Line. Laura Dyson and her best friend Sage seem to be the misfits at Royal Middle School. They are teased by the popular kids, especially because of their weight. The girls take pride in their appearance and fashion sense – Laura dreams of someday becoming a runway model – but they are nonetheless self-conscious and struggle with self-esteem.

Laura’s parents are in the army reserves. When they have to leave for two weeks of training, Laura must stay at her grandmother’s country home. Laura decidedly does not want to go, but she has no choice and reluctantly packs her bags. On the property of Grandma’s farm sits a historic shack that holds Laura’s family history. Laura calls it a “slave shack” and is appalled by what it symbolizes to her. She’s embarrassed that some of her ancestors were slaves and refuses to step foot into the structure. She doesn’t understand why her mother and grandmother insist on speaking with love and pride about “The Laura Line.” For nine generations, every firstborn daughter was named Laura, and given a unique middle name. But Laura Eboni wants nothing to do with the shack or the long row of crosses in the small cemetery nearby.

Laura’s favorite pastime, next to swooning over classmate “hunky chunky” Troy, is playing and watching baseball. She’s an expert pitcher and throws baseballs to relieve stress. Laura and Grandma get along well, and Laura is touched when Grandma makes a concerted effort to learn everything she can about the sport of baseball.

In history class, Laura has been learning about slavery, specifically the story of the slave ship the Amistad. When her teacher Mrs. Jacobs, who happens to be best friends with Laura’s grandmother (Laura Lee), announces that the class will be taking a field trip to Grandma’s farm to visit the shack, Laura is mortified. She determines she must somehow put a stop to the trip. She fears the slave shack will only give her classmates more ammunition to taunt her. Here’s an excerpt from her conversation that evening with Grandma.

So you’re saying you’ll let me be the laughing-stock of my entire school? I mean, my classmates know what kind of brutal things happened during slavery. They also know cruel stuff happened inside slave shacks. And they’ll look at me like I’m crazy for keeping one. It’s as if we don’t care about how our ancestors were treated.”

 Grandma stands. “You don’t know the whole story, Baby Girl. It’s time to be proud of who you are.”

Meanwhile, Sage has been asked by the popular clique, the Pink Chips, to be a part of their group. She is flattered and doesn’t realize that the girls have ulterior motives and only want to use Sage for her photography and journalism skills.

When Laura hears her heartthrob Troy speak highly and respectfully of Laura’s great-grandmother, Laura Elaine and the Laura Line history, Laura becomes curious about what exactly is in that shack. She ventures inside and discovers a treasured ledger containing letters,   newspaper clippings, wedding and birth announcements, awards and ribbons – the history of her ancestors. She takes her time and reads each page, absorbing the importance of understanding where she came from so she can know who she is and better appreciate the unique and special person she is becoming.

Without giving away any more details of this wonderfully entertaining story, Laura ultimately learns that she comes from a lineage of outstanding women who all made a success of their lives through hard work and perseverance. Laura realizes that she, too, is amazing and can do anything she sets her mind to do. And also that is okay to make mistakes! When Laura admits her fear of failure to her grandmother, the wise elder Laura says . . .

Then you’ll fit right in with the rest of us. The ledger is full of failures as well as successes. If you study the ledger, you’ll begin to see our legacy. Each of us fell down at some point in our lives. But we always got back up. As long as you get up more times than you fall down, you’ll be a winner.”

The Laura Line is well-written with believable vernacular. I highly recommend it for readers of middle-grade fiction.

The post LitStack Review: The Laura Line by Crystal Allen appeared first on LitStack.

From i09:

Loosely based on Stanislaw Lem’s The Futurological Congress, here’s your first look at the wild and weird movie The Congress. Just watch for yourself.

Robin Wright plays herself — as an aged star, who sells her likeness to a movie studio. And then things get strange, but also astoundingly beautiful. Directed by Ari Folman, this movie reminds us a bit of S1m0ne and Cool World, but hopefully far superior than either film. The movie stars Wright, Harvey Keitel, Danny Huston,Paul Giamatti (you can spot his animated character at the 1:38 mark) and possibly Jon Hamm (hey the cartoon character looks and sounds like him, he’s just not listed on IMDB). Here’s the official short synopsis:

An aging, out-of-work actress accepts one last job, though the consequences of her decision affect her in ways she didn’t consider.

The Congress will premiere at Cannes, we’ll keep you posted about early reviews. They should be entertaining.

The post First Trailer for Stanislaw Lem’s ‘The Congress’ appeared first on LitStack.