All about INLAND

Because I sort of forgot that I had a website (whoops! hello! is anyone here?), this news is coming about a week after its initial debut all over Twitter/Tumblr/Instagram. But nevertheless: Yes! There is a new book on the horizon. It is called…

INLAND.

And as of last week, all the exciting pre-release things that happen before a book is a book started happening.

It has a COVER.

inland_662x1000

It has a DESCRIPTION.

After nine years spent suffocating in the arid expanses of the Midwest, far from the sea where her mother drowned, Callie Morgan and her estranged father are returning to the coast. And miraculously, Callie can finally breathe easily. No more sudden, clawing attacks and week-long hospital stays. No more wary, pitying glances from classmates and teachers. She can be more than a sickly freak, coughing her way between nondescript inland towns every year.

But something waits for Callie in the water. Just as her life begins to feel like her own, with an almost-family and a first love and a circle of loud-mouthed friends, her body starts to rebel in new ways. She finds herself fighting the intoxicating pull of the black waters right outside her window. Her dreams turn wild and real, and she wakes up with salt water in her hair. Family secrets and whispering doubts flood her brain as she leads herself and those around her into danger, jeopardizing everything she once longed for. Is it madness, or is there a voice, beckoning her to come to the sea’s deepest heart; to come home?

It has a RELEASE DATE.

releasedatejabba

Thank you, Jabba the Hutt.

I’ll be doing an ARC giveaway as soon as I have one to give… um, away. In the meantime, you can add the book on Goodreads, or even pre-order it on Amazon. And if you want a peek at what’s in store, Entertainment Weekly’s website — which revealed the cover last week — has an exclusive excerpt of the very first chapter that you can sink your little literary teeth into.

Also, if you’re not following me on Tumblr, I post things over there a lot more than I do over here. Come on over.

EVENT: Sunday 9/16, The Hudson Valley YA Society @ Oblong Books

My very first event is coming up this Sunday, and you — yes, you — are invited. I’ll be at Oblong Books in Rhinebeck, NY, along with three other wonderful authors (Andrea Cremer, Mariah Fredericks, and Jill Larkin) for their September edition of the Hudson Valley YA Society. It all kicks off at 4:00pm, and the website promises a “fun, literary salon-like” atmosphere, which is probably code for “There will be cake and huge powdered wigs”.

Excited?

I KNOW I AM. Got my powdered wig all dusted off and everything.

Details and RSVP here.

Underwater monsters with hungry metal teeth

Ever since AMELIA ANNE IS DEAD AND GONE made its way onto shelves in July, I’ve had people ask whether it’s a true story, or perhaps based on one. Some upstate friends, seeing parallels between our shared hometown and the insular one in the book, have even professed to know the exact location where Amelia’s body was found, or the exact person who inspired this or that character. 

I refuse to confirm their suspicions.

But I’ll tell you this much:

The tractor in the lake is real.

At least, I think it is. The lake is real. The pool on its western shore, surrounded on all sides by steep-rising blocks of granite, is real. The bridge that spans it, with its spindly cables and cracked foundations, is real. And the local kids with sunburnt shoulders, sitting in a row like birds on a wire, are real.

I was fifteen the first time I went, one of four passengers in my best friend’s boyfriend’s car. The lake was out beyond the town lines, and its frontage was mostly private — built up with rustic cabins and simple ranch homes owned by summerers. But there was one spot, where the lake thinned and squeezed through a narrow ravine, where a public road with a single-lane bridge cut across the water, and this was where we went. We parked at the side of the road and skipped barefoot along the broiling asphalt, small rocks biting into the soles of our feet, until one by one we perched on the metal rails. We wore cutoff shorts and bikini tops, we shed our t-shirts and tossed them on the curb. And we waited, smoking cigarettes, until one of us — the bravest, boldest one — would casually flick a butt aside, and say, “I’m jumping,” and push off the bridge into space.

*

It was that first time, after my maiden jump, that I clambered out of the frothing water and up the rocky hill to the road, and wandered across to the opposite rail, and looked over into the pocket of water there. It was beautiful, much better than the narrow channel we were all plunging into. Deep and dark green, rippling just a little from the impact of bodies in the water on the other side. There were high, sheer banks rising up on all sides, a perfect swimming hole.

The boy who’d brought us saw me looking, and shook his head.
“Don’t,” he said. “There’s something in the water over there.”
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t know, a tractor or something.”
“A tractor?”
“Yeah, a tractor.”
“Yeah,” my friend said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “A tractor.”

It is a testament to the peculiarities of small town living, and the peculiar authority of seventeen year-old boys when you are a fifteen year-old girl, that I didn’t ask why or how there was a tractor in the lake. Instead, I shrugged, walked back across the sun-bleached road, swung my legs over the rail beside my friends, and pulled at the long, waterlogged fringe on my shorts until someone dared me to jump again. But only on the westward side, of course. Because of the tractor.

*

Over the years, I’ve often thought of that spot: the bridge, the lake, the perfect circle of water that nobody ever swims in. I thought of the lurking beast beneath its surface, a monster straight from redneck mythology, the existence — or at least, the possibility — of which was accepted as inarguable fact by everyone who went there. I thought about how easy it was to believe in it. It was a story so powerful, and so plausible, that not a single one of us ever thought to ask if it were really true. We were there all during that summer, and the one after, too; the claim of a tractor submerged in the water would have been easy enough to investigate, could probably have been disproved with nothing more than a long stick to poke down into the cloudy depths. But nobody did. The inviting pool on the other side might as well have been a thousand miles away, as remote and inaccessible as an image on a postcard. And in the years since, when I’ve driven past that spot in the summertime, I’ve often seen groups of kids with jean shorts and farmers’ tans perched on the rails, plunging into the water.

Not one of them has ever crossed the width of the bridge to jump on the other side.

Once, I thought about pulling over, rolling down my window, and asking them why. I wondered if they’d cite the existence of the tractor, all sharp edges and tetanus rust, waiting down in the murk to chew on the soft, pink skin of a reckless kid — or if the monster’s features had changed over time, if the past decade had turned it into a car or boat wreck or a murderous, mammoth snapping turtle that could sever a foot in one bite. Instead, I waved and drove by without stopping.

*

A few weeks before the publication of AMELIA — in which a secret, a submerged piece of farm equipment lurking in the waters of an inviting swimming hole, causes tragedy when it goes untold — I went out for drinks with my friend, the one I’d been with when we first went to the bridge. She’d already read an early copy of the book, and she laughed and said, “I can’t believe you put the underwater tractor in your story. I’d forgotten all about that.”

“Is that actually true?” I asked. I whispered, actually; that’s how taboo the question felt.
My friend shrugged, and said, “I think so. Right? My grandfather told me about it, I remember. And some other people. It’s got to be true.”
“I guess,” I said. “It’s a crazy story, though, isn’t it?”
“I never really thought about it, but yeah.” She thought about it, sipping her beer. “We could always go look and see.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We should.”

But we didn’t.

And we won’t.

A few good reviews from the Land of Blog

It’s been an exciting July so far for AMELIA ANNE IS DEAD AND GONE, as we rounded the first week of the blog tour and reviews from the rabid readers of the internet started rolling in. What are people saying about the book? Here’s a little handful of buzz from the blogosphere:

  • Leila Roy at Kirkus Reviews urged readers to get their hands on AMELIA ANNE, saying, “[Kat] makes every single action, interaction, sometimes even the briefest of moments…feel like a turning point. There’s a constant sense of dread, inevitability and change.”
  • Lauren at 365 Days of Reading wrote, “Its rich prose will reel you in, but the story—and its effect on Rebecca—will keep you reading.”
  • Kristi at The Story Siren said, “[AMELIA ANNE] is a contemporary novel that’s more on the gritty side. Gritty, yet incredibly beautiful.”
  • There’s a lovely review from A Beautiful Madness (sample quote: “The descriptions are simply vivid and bring easily to life the world and characters Kat Rosenfield has created.”)
  • And Brittany at A Reading Nook had a thrilling experience with AMELIA: “Each chapter makes you a bit more feverish; you creep to the edge of your seat inch by inch. This made it so that there was never a great place to stop… it felt like the next page would tell you all the book’s secrets.”

Did you see something lovely about AMELIA on the internet? Do tell.

A tour of the interwebs

…actually began last week, but in a moment of terrible flakiness, I forgot to announce it. The AMELIA ANNE IS DEAD AND GONE blog tour, coordinated by the charming Gabrielle Carolina at the Mod Podge Bookshelf, kicked off on July 10th with great fanfare. (And by “great fanfare”, I mean, “some people tweeted about it and it was awesome”.) Want to follow me around the internet during this illustrious tour de blog? YEAH YOU DO.

…Um, don’t you? Well, anyway, here’s the announcement and schedule. Guest posts! Giveaways! Hooray.

The Mod Podge Bookshelf has had a rather literary brainchild.



Mod Podge Blog Tours kicks off with my (Gabrielle Carolina’s) favorite debut of 2012, Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone by Kat Rosenfield.

Amber over at Page Turners Blog designed the lovely banner and button above and below and several amazing blogs have graciously offered to host tour stops over the next three weeks!


Please find the schedule below, filled with poignant guest blogs, intriguing interviews and generous giveaways!


7/9- Kick-off & Giveaway at The Mod Podge Bookshelf

7/10- Interview at Rescue Reads 

7/12- Review at The Story Siren

7/13- Guest Blog at author Kelsey Sutton’s Blog

7/15- Debut Author Spotlight Interview & Giveaway at Page Turners Blog

7/16- Guest Blog at 365 Days of Reading

7/17- Guest Blog at Magnet For Books

7/18- Interview at Steph Su Reads

7/19- Giveaway at YA Bliss

7/20- Interview & Giveaway at Reading or Breathing

7/21- Review at The Mod Podge Bookshelf

7/22- Giveaway at Midnight Garden

7/23- Guest Blog and Giveaway at Reading Away the Days

7/24- Giveaway at Books to Consider

7/25- Guest Blog at Words Like Silver

7/26- Review at Making the Grade

7/27- Interview at Book Chic

7/28- Guest Blog at The Mod Podge Bookshelf 


Thank you to all my bookish pals for helping kick off Mod Podge Blog Tours! 

For more info on future tours, as well as author info for being hosted on MPB, please check out the new Mod Podge Blog Tour Page on The Mod Podge Bookshelf.


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And now for a giveaway! 



Win a finished copy of Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

QUESTION: How do you write so much?

Some of my frequently-asked questions will be answered directly on the FAQ page. Others will get their own blog post, to which I will link from the FAQ page. This is one of the latter.

How do you write so much?

This is the first question ever to qualify as “frequently-asked”,  I’m afraid the primary answer is going to disappoint you: basically, I write so much because I do almost nothing else.

Seriously, apart from a handful of filler activities — I practice yoga, I pet my cat, I occasionally eat and shower, and there’s this guy who I live with who I sometimes talk to — I spend all day, every day, putting words together. I write from eight in the morning until five or six (or seven or nine or ten) at night. I say yes to almost every freelance gig I’m offered. And… (whispers) I get paid for it. Which, to be honest, is a big help. You know how people look at Scarlett Johansson and say, “Well, if someone gave me millions of dollars to look hot on camera, my buttocks would probably be ridiculously toned, too!”? Not that freelance writing pays millions of dollars (HAHAHAHAHAHA, OH, THE VERY IDEA), but having an incentive to work — and an editor who will virtually beat the shit out of me if I miss my deadline — is nearly as important as having the time to do it.

HOWEVER. The magic combination of time and incentive aren’t luxuries available only to writers who get paid to write. So for those looking for advice on being productive and getting the words out, here’s what I have to say.

Make writing as easy and comfortable as possible.

The actual act of writing is hard enough without all the environmental/situational bits being a pain as well. For starters, give yourself a comfortable, accessible, non-inspiration-killing venue in which to write. The more pleasant it is to be in your writing space, the more you’ll want to hang out there; conversely, the more your writing space is covered in spiders and outfitted with a chair that makes your behind ache, the less productive you’ll be. And if there’s anything that seems to get your creative juices flowing — reading a good book, reading a bad book, chatting with a witty friend, taking a walk, having a glass of wine — then do that thing. It’s not cheating to catalyze your process with a little outside something-or-other.

Give yourself an incentive.

Obviously, getting money in exchange for your words is the most obvious way to make this happen, but not every incentive is financial. The feedback you get from readers, the spike in traffic from writing a post that gets a lot of links, the satisfaction of expressing yourself in just the right words, even just the sense of accomplishment you get from sitting back and looking at a giant chunk of text and thinking, “Whoa, that came out of me!” — these things feel good. Figure out which of them feel the best, and dangle them in front of yourself like the proverbial carrot when you find yourself curled up in the fetal position, whimpering, and wondering why you’re doing this to yourself.

And finally, put writing first.

Or at least, as close to first as possible. Make time for your writing. Listen to its needs and try to fulfill them. And when your writing calls, answer as immediately and often as you can — no matter what you’re doing, or what you still need to get done. Inspiration has a way of evaporating if not paid attention to, in ways that other things don’t. Or in other words, you won’t forget how to do your math homework if you put it off for a couple hours, and the dishes in the sink will still be there later tonight. But that amazing line you just thought of, the one that perfectly wraps up the chapter you’ve been struggling with for weeks? Wait too long to write it down, and it’ll disintegrate like cheap toilet paper… and chafe just as badly.

So, that’s how I write so much. How do YOU do it?

John Green said my name (and other observations from a literary birthday)

My book, AMELIA ANNE IS DEAD AND GONE, was officially published today. Almost immediately, two things happened:

First, I calmly and maturely told myself to relax, and calm down, and c’mon now, the fact that the book was now in stores didn’t mean that today would be more exciting, interesting, or otherwise noteworthy than any other. Hoda Kotb and Kathie Lee Gifford were not going to show up at my door and ask to give me a makeover. Paparazzi were not going to mob me when I went out to buy toilet paper. And of course, John Green — a.k.a. the Ryan Gosling of the YA literary world — was not going to post about my book on Tumblr and singlehandedly create a maelstrom of book birthday publicity beyond that of my wildest dreams.

And second, John Green posted about my book on Tumblr and OH MY GAAAAAAAHD.

Which means that not only did my Tumblr/Twitter streams explode in a mad flurry of follows and reblog’n’tweets, but also that I spent most of the day running in circles around my apartment, stopping only for the occasional hip thrust. I was so excited, I actually forgot to eat. If you have ever met me in real life, you know how serious this is.

So, hi there, newcomers. I’m Kat Rosenfield, a.k.a. Auntie SparkNotes, a.k.a. that girl whose giant face just popped up on your dashboard (seriously, I don’t know why, my face is NOT THAT HUGE), and I wrote a book that is now available for purchase on the internet, and also in stores. I still don’t know just how much long-term blogging I’ll be doing on this site — because I’m not sure anyone is actually reading (Anyone? Bueller?), because I’m a full-time freelance writer and don’t have a whole lot of extra energy for banging out extra work, and because I’m a crotchety old hag who’s ever-so-slightly protective of her private life — but I promise to do my best… if you promise to stay off my lawn.

I see you out there.

GET OUT OF THE AZALEAS.

welcome.

For those intrepid googlers who’ve been searching “kat rosenfield blog”, good news: you’ve found it.

The bad news: for the moment, “it” consists of one post, which you are currently reading, and which is not particularly good.

Sorry about that.

AMELIA ANNE IS DEAD AND GONE comes out in 10 days. Authorial blogging to commence shortly.

Maybe.

Probably.